


Please Come Home for Christmas

by Sweet_strawberry_blue



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Heavy Drinking, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Miscarriage, My First AO3 Post, Past Relationship(s), Reunions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-08-28 13:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 38,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16724016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweet_strawberry_blue/pseuds/Sweet_strawberry_blue
Summary: "He didn't just leave me! He left all of you too.." Her voice trailed off as she stared down deeply in her glass of Merlot, as though some answer might be hidden at the bottom."But I heard you that night!" Arya's voice rose even higher, "You told him to never come bac-!""I know what I said!" Her open palm slammed on the dark wood of the dinner table, causing a slight rattle to move through the room. Most in attendance were a little startled at her unladylike outburst. Sansa continued, "But Jon Snow is a grown man! If he wanted to be here, do you really think that he wouldn't be?"``Jon Snow had taken Rhaegar's offer and traveled south to make something of himself. This caused the relationship between the 3 eldest Stark siblings to fracture. Jon has been living a pretty broken life as well since leaving the north and the only family he's ever known behind, dispite his sucesses in King's Landing. With Arya's letter arriving just after Thanksgiving, asking him to come home, Jon has an opportunity to prove what kind of man he really is? But the road to forgiveness is a long, harsh path.





	1. Home again

**Author's Note:**

> We meet Jon and his current thoughts.

_December 23rd, 2016_

**Present**

Jon has been dreading this moment for almost a month. Since he’d read and reread Arya’s letter, spoken briefly to Robb and made the decision to attempt to spend Christmas with the Starks, he had been living in fear. What was he really expecting? To be welcomed home with open arms from the family he’d ran out on in the pursuit of success that specifically had nothing to do with them? After all, that was what he wanted. To make something of himself without having to constantly be viewed as the living, breathing charity case of Ned Stark. To be able to walk in their circle without feeling so utterly out of place. To mold himself into someone that Ned would be proud to call son, though the man himself had never once hesitated in giving Jon that title, not matter how deserving or undeserving it felt.

 _They have every right to hang me where I stand_ , Jon thought to himself grimly.

He drove his black SUV up to the gates of Winterfell. The sun had yet to show its face and the intimidating manor loomed in the distance against the dark blue/grey sky of the early morning. As he rolled down the window in order to enter the passcode, he hesitated. _What if the code is different? Its been five years.. Maybe I should have called._

He could recall years of entering these gates in his very first car, without ever doubting that he could in fact get in. Winterfell was his home once. But that was a long time ago.

Jon hadn’t called, hadn’t let anyone know that he was coming. Arya’s letter was clear and he had memorized it and it replayed in his head. _“…I need you to think about what you want to do. I don’t want to hear or read your reply. I’ll know where we stand if or when I see you. We will all know..”_   She didn’t want to hear any of his excuse as to why its been five years since he’d last set foot north of The Neck. There would be no negotiations or raincheck. Jon was either to show up or not.

“...7...5...7...2...2...7...” He called the numbers out as he entered them into the keypad. A green light on the keypad came on and the gates slowly began to open. Jon didn’t know if he’d be more surprised if the code had been changed after all, but after this first barrier the anxiety that filled him seem to double.

As he pulled up the slightly winding pathway, Winterfell grew closer almost menacingly. The house was shrouded in darkness, the curtains were drawn in every window, letting not one once of light to peek through. The tasteful decorations on the exterior were turned for the night. It seemed like an ancient structure frozen in time with its blend of Victorian architecture with very little modern touches. It was very far removed from the penthouse suits and glass houses he’d force himself to become accustom to in the south.

He sat in his car a small distance from the massive porch and tried to steady his breathing and calm his features. He was a man! He should be able to face the consequences of his decisions and he’d spent more than enough time hiding from them. And this was his family.

 _Do they still think so?_ He wasn’t sure.

Jon pulled up his sleeve slightly to check the time of his watch. 6:27 am it read. And if Stark traditions remained the same, and he had no reason to believe otherwise, then manor would soon come to life. Catelyn Stark would be up and about in a matter of minutes, starting one of her famous Christmas holiday breakfasts. Ned would rise shortly after to begin making the coffee and hot chocolate, then he would sit and read his paper while occasionally watching his wife move about the kitchen. Judging by the classic red mustang parked a few feet from his vehicle, Robb was inside too. He would wake as the scent of rich coffee made its way upstairs. Bran was probably already awake in his room reading or meditating and would make his way down when he was ready. Arya would as well, sometime after. Catelyn would need to shout in order to wake Rickon, who from a young age loved nothing about the mornings except his mother’s cooking. And Sansa… Sansa…

Jon felt his chest constrict at the very thought of her.

 _Sansa.. my Sansa._. Not his Sansa anymore. _You made damn sure of that,_ a sinister voice whispered through his thoughts.

Sansa, with her long silky coppery hair. With her brilliant blue eyes that reminded him of the clearest days of spring. Sansa, with her full pink lips that were softer than any rose petal, he knew from experience. Her rosy cheeks, and slightly freckled nose, her elegant neck, the beauty mark behind her left ear. Her radiant smile. To this day she is still the most beautiful creature he’d ever had to privilege of seeing. No one could ever compare to her, and that was not for lack of trying on his part. How many nameless beauties had he tried to lose himself in with hopes of filling the void in his life that was Sansa? How many nights had he spent attempting to drown himself in purely lustful affairs in hopes of chasing her from his dreams? But when he closes his eyes, it was her. Her kisses, her touches.

For five years, Jon had tried his hardest to not think about Sansa. He has failed time after time, but still he must try. To think of Sansa is to remember the last time he’d seen her in the flesh. And now, just like every other time that she had pried her way into his thought, images of her face on their last night flash through his mind.

Sansa, with her tear stained cheeks and watery eyes. The slight sobs and gasps she made as she tried her to hold herself together. The betrayal and hurt in her gaze as she locked eyes with him, the way her voice trembled slightly when she spoke..

 _“..so leave then..”_ she said with a slight hiccup as she hardened her glare. It was winter time in the north, but it grew even colder than normal as she continued to speak. _“..but don’t you ever come back. Do you understand me, Jon Snow? I never want to see your face again..”_

In that moment, just like this one and the countless others in between, Jon felt what remain of his heart break even more than it already was. Sansa was his love and when he hurt her, he had hurt himself. When he broke her, he broke himself and he’d been half the man ever since. A coward is what he was. He’d run from her and then turned around and used her word as his excuse to continue to run. But now here he was. Sansa would wake shortly after Ned and come down to help Catelyn prepare breakfast. And now he was only a short distance from her. Did she know that Arya had written him, asking him to return? If she did, did she care? Was she inside? Had she met someone new? Did she still love him?

 _How could she still love you?_ The dark voice in the back of his head whispered wickedly. _You, who was never worthy of her, broke the heart you never deserved in the first place._ Another wave of shame washed over him.

Jon killed the engine and stepped out of his vehicle. He began to make his way to the porch. Before he could reach the first step, out of the corner of his eyes he thinks he might have seen slight flicker of red in the second-floor window, he knew whose room that was. He stood there frozen, not sure if it was real or not. Slowly, though, he began to make his way up. With each step he took, it felt as though he was stepping back into the past.

Standing directly in front of the door, Jon had no idea what he wanted to do. The key that he’d spent a full afternoon and most of the night taking his home office apart trying to find, was now burning a hole in the pocket of his black suede coat. Yes, he had let himself through the gates of Winterfell without anyone’s say-so. But was he bold enough to let himself into the home that he didn’t know if he was still welcomed in?

For the umpteenth time since he’d left Kings Landing and begun the 4 day drive it would take to get to here, Jon thought to himself:

_What the fuck am I doing?_


	2. Thanksgiving from Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaos at the dinner table.

_November 24 th, 2016_

**Thanksgiving**

**Sansa**

There was a time in her life when spending the holidays with her family would have brought nothing but joy to her heart. But that was a long time ago.

Now, with the prospect of spending the next several week in her childhood home until the new year, only brought Sansa the feeling of bitterness and the anticipation of the upcoming fights she will no doubt have with some of her siblings. And the Old Gods bless her parents, but she might have it out with them as well.

She had just finished up her latest book tour for her most recent work. Sansa has been dubbed this generation’s Jane Austin, since she’d first publish a book of heart wrenching poetry followed by three novels romantic tragedies. Whenever she did a reading of one of her novels, someone whether press of fans would always ask why her stories never had a happy ending. She’d always think darkly to herself, _I write what I feel_ , before giving the generic answer: _“love is a maze we don’t always make it out off. But maybe one day my characters will find their way_ ”, with a polite smile that never reached her eyes.

Its not that she never tried to complete a happy ending, it’s just that it never felt authentic. It always read to her as forced or cliché. So, all her leading ladies would either be widowed or learn to love from a far because life was unpredictable and her stories would always reflect that. Sansa would never go against herself in order to please some childish reader who didn’t seem to understand she didn’t write fairytales.

Now she was home preparing to spend thanksgiving dinner with her family, as she had every year of her life. She had helped her mother with the cooking while casually sipping on glasses of wine from noon til 5pm when she had returned to her childhood bedroom to finished dressing herself. If her mother had noticed her drinking early in the day, she hadn’t made it known. Sansa just needed something to take the edge off. She didn’t spend much time with her family throughout the year and knew that this holiday season, just as every other holiday season for the last five years would absolutely bring some drama ensuing arguments.

Sansa and Arya always had their disagreements, they were as different as night and day. There was a time, however, where it seemed that they had finally turned a corner in their relationship and could finally appreciate these differences in each other. But that was before Jon went south.

_Jon..._

Oh, she hated thinking about Jon Snow. Remembering that there is a Jon Snow, and he was somewhere else, living his life as though he’d left nothing behind. It caused a heated anger to course its way through her veins and fill her gentle heart. Sansa had never forgiven him, had never even bothered to try. She just took all that hurt, pain, sadness and anger that was Jon Snow and shoved it in the back of her mind, along with the secrets that only one other people in the world knew: Margaery.

Margaery knew all the places she’d gone and all the things she had done in the futile attempts to forget Jon Snow.  The many night she’d waken in some stranger’s bed after a drunken romp, needing a ride home, it had been Margaery that came to her rescue. The days where she’d drank herself to oblivion, Margaery had cleaned her and the mess she’d left behind. The times that she needed to feel anything and had put her body to test, Margaery had cared for and nursed her back to health. That one night, so long ago when she found herself in a hospital bed after...

_No…_

She didn’t want to think about that. Not tonight, not ever again. Margaery was her saving grace and Sansa owed her her life, she knew that. She also knew that Margaery had kept all her secret even though currently she was Robb’s fiancé. Sansa knew that Margaery had never breathe a word of her past to Robb, because if Robb knew... well, she knew Robb wouldn’t be able to stomach half the things she’d done. Margaery may become Robb’s wife, she’d always be Sansa closest friend and best confidant. That, Sansa was sure off.

Sansa gave a last look over herself in the mirror. She was wearing a deep purple, form fitting dress with long sleeves and black tights underneath. She had on some eyeliner, and a little lip-gloss. She was ready. With one last sigh, she steeled herself for the disaster of and evening that was undoubtedly about to occur and made her way downstairs.

As she reaches the bottom of the grand staircase, she heard the front door close and then a melodious voice called out,

“Helloo family!!”

“Margaery!” Sansa smiled and went to hug her friend. Robb entered the foyer behind his fiancé carrying a cake box in his hand and a polite coolness in his presence. Once upon a time, Robb was her closest and most favored sibling, but for the last five years there was nothing between them but cold politeness and distant familiarity. He came over to her and place a small kiss at her temple.

“Sansa, don’t you look lovely” he said in a clipped tone. Margaery sent him a look, but Sansa pushed passed that.

“Not as lovely as your future bride!” she said has she pulled Margaery in for another hug.

As they started walking toward the dinning room, the front door opened once more and in walked Theon Greyjoy, who had been a fixture in the Stark household for as long as she could remember.

“Hello Starks! Future Stark! How is everyone?” He said with his signature smirk.

“What are you doing here?” Margaery asked, raising an eyebrow and folding her arms before her chest.

“You wound me, I’d never miss a holiday at the Starks! This is family” He stated happily as he put his arm over Sansa’s shoulder.

“Come on, love. You get to show me to the food”

Sansa chuckled lightly and began walking with him to the dinner table, rolling her eyes at his familiar antics. They joined the rest of the family.

**

Dinner had started, and everyone ate quietly after they exchange pleasantries. The food was delicious, but that was to be expected as Catelyn Stark was perhaps one of the greatest homemakers to ever live. They had managed to keep the conversations light for forty-five minutes as the discussed the weather, sports teams, sales for the coming season, some wedding details between Sansa and Margaery, and everyone’s plan after the new year began.

Then, innocently enough, Catelyn started their descent into chaos when she asked,

“Oh Sansa, I had thought Harry would be joining us tonight. Will he be here for Christmas dinner?”

 “I doubt it, seeing as we ended things last week”, Sansa replied calmly.

“Oh?” Arya piped up with a smile of feigned innocence, “Is it over already?”

“Yes.” Sansa answered, meeting her sister’s smirking glare.

“Well, isn’t that just how it goes. Another man desperate to get away from you” Arya’s smile broadened.

“Arya!” Catelyn pinned her youngest daughter with a disapproving stare.

“What? I’m just stated the obvious” Arya continued smirking.

“Well, that’s no surprise. Everything you state is rather _obvious_ , don’t you think?” Sansa answered smartly.

Margaery had a look of slight discomfort on her face as she glanced worriedly between the two sisters, then at her fiancé who seemed perfectly at ease with the tone that this conversation was taking. Theon looked rather conflicted, not knowing whether to ease the mounting tension or the stay out of the situation. Bran and Rickon remained quiet but attentive.

“Sansa please.” Ned said trying to keep them from going over the edge. Sansa felt for her father, and perhaps on any other night she might have let what Arya said next go.

Arya’s cheeks flushed angrily before she continued, “I think this is the same attitude that drives them all away. What was it that Joffrey had called you?? Oh, that’s right. A frigid bitch.”

Sansa took her glass of Merlot, brought it to her lips and finished its contents before pouring herself another. The dinner wine along with the glasses from earlier had greatly loosened her tongue and she felt brave enough to get to the bottom of this thing that was between her and her siblings tonight. During the exchange Robb had kept his mouth shut and his eye down, but he wasn’t going to escape. Sansa took another sip.

“Is there something you would like to say to me, Arya?” she asked calmly.

“I just said it.”

“No. I don’t meet about Harry and me, or Joffrey, or Dickon, or any other guy I have been with for that matter. I mean what is it that you really want to say. For years now, you’ve been dressing up your little digs and snide comment about me and my life and who I date. But you never really say what you mean. Well, what is it? What are you angry about? What do you want to say to me? The Arya that I knew would just come out and say it! Not beat around the bush. Honestly sitting here, you just look like an angry little girl too scared to spit it out! You’re always going on about how I’m weak and silly, but that’s how I see you right now. So silly that you’d rather trade insults than talk about something real. And so weak in that those insult don’t even have any bite. But then again, you were never very good with words. But I’m giving the opportunity to try. So, come Arya! Out with it!”

“You made Jon leave!” Arya shouted, her chest heaving and her knuckles turning white where she clutched her fork. It looked like at any moment she may reach over the table and stab Sansa with it.

Everyone at the table stilled. There was an unspoken rule in this family and everyone sitting here had abided by it for the last five year. **Do not mention Jon Snow around Sansa Stark.** Even Arya herself had never gone this far. But there was not turning back now.

“What?!?” Sansa demanded

“You drove him away! I begged him not the date you! I told him he could do so much better! That you would just ruin everything! He wouldn’t listen! But you did ruin everything and you made him leave!! Now he’s gone, and he hasn’t been home in years and it all your fault!!”

Everyone was stunned into silence.

“My Fault?!?” Sansa turned and locked eyes with Robb. “And I suppose you feel the same way!”

“Leave me out of this, Sansa. Please.” Robb said, his voice sounding stifled.

“Out of this? But you’ve always been in the middle of this. Silently agreeing with Arya as she taunted me. For years. You blame me too, just admit it. Be a man, for once. Don’t let both of your sisters have bigger balls than you.”

“Sansa!!” both her mother and Margaery exclaimed, but she didn’t turn to either of them. Her eyes were still locked on Robb.

“Fine! What do you want me to say?? That I wish you two had never dated?? What else do you expect?? He was my best friend, Sansa!! And you took him from me! And then you made him go south!” It was rare for Robb to raise his voice. Especially at her. Had she been a few years younger, Sansa might have started crying. But she didn’t.

“How did I make him go south???”

As Robb began to answer, Sansa put her hand up to stop him.

“Actually no. I don’t want to hear his reasons. Because they are HIS reasons, not mine.”

“But he said- “

“Shut up, Arya.”

“He went south to- “

“Shut the fuck up, Arya!”

“What?? You don’t want to hear why he left you??” Arya asked leaning forward.

"He didn't just leave me! He left all of you too…" Her voice trailed off as she stared down deeply in her glass of Merlot, as though some answer might be hidden at the bottom.

"But I heard you that night!" Arya's voice rose even higher, "You told him to never come bac-!"

"I know what I said!" Her open palm slammed on the dark wood of the dinner table, causing a slight rattle to move through the room. Most in attendance were a little startled at her unladylike outburst. Sansa continued, "But Jon Snow is a grown man! If he wanted to be here, do you really think that he wouldn't be?"

A silence settled over the room before Sansa continued as she looked around.

“Don’t you ever ask yourselves why he’s never visited?? Why you must go see him, but he’s never tried to come here? I don’t own or control Winterfell. I can’t very well keep him out by my will alone. He missed all your graduations and championship matches. His best friend, his little sister, his family…but where is he now?? Have either of you two ever questioned him?? Robb, does he even know that you’re engaged??” That question was met with silence.

“You haven’t told him?? You promised that you would!” Margaery exclaimed.

“I’m going to!”

“You’re afraid that he’ll find some excuse not to make it to his best friend’s wedding, aren’t you?” Silence again.

“Do you want to know where he is right now?” Both Robb and Arya looked at her expectantly, with hope brewing in their eyes. Sansa shook her head slightly before continuing.

“Exactly where he wants to be... and that is not my fault, I can’t control him...I never could...” She whispered the last part.

“Now If you’ll excuse me. I’m going to bed.” Sansa refilled her glass before rising and leaving the dining room.

Arya rose shortly after.

 

**

 

After what felt like an eternity of just laying in best staring at the ceiling, Arya went over to her cluttered desk and sat down. She took out a freshly ruled paper and began writing. She didn’t trust that she could express her thoughts fully to Jon over the phone or on one of their many video calls. She had mentioned coming home to Jon before, but he’d always been evasive about it.

But the things Sansa said… They were really eye opening. Especially after finding out that even Robb feared that Jon wouldn’t coming to his own wedding.  And if she were to be honest, a part of her held doubts that as well.

So, she decided that she would say everything she had to in this letter. And soon she would know everything..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think of the dialogue. Next chapter will be mostly Robb and Margaery and revelations.


	3. Late night aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery and Robb discuss what they think they know.

_November 24 th, 2016_

**After Thanksgiving**

**Robb**

The ride back to the flat he shared with his fiancé was deafeningly silent, the air heavy with unspoken tension. It was almost difficult to breathe. Every now and then, he’d glance over at Margaery, who kept her eyes trained out the passenger side window never once glancing in his direction. There was a fight coming, no doubt about that. And a big one too.

Robb rarely fought with Margaery, he felt no need to. Sure, some might find her over the top personality too much, but to Robb she just added some color to his all too gray and white life. She was beautiful, vibrant, loving and fiercely loyal. That he knew from experience. In all the time that they’d known each other, Sansa being the one to introduce them, Margaery had never once ‘broken girl code’.

But tonight, things had gotten out of hand. He honestly wished he could go back and stop himself from saying those things. But another small part of him was glad that everything was out in the open. Robb missed Sansa. He missed how close they were, the bond they had shared. Maybe this night could help them get back to a sense of normalcy. _I doubt it..._ He thought to himself.

He quickly maneuvered his way through the parking lot and found a spot close to the building’s entrance. Margaery exited the car without a word and began walking to the lobby door, Robb trailing behind her. Once they entered their unit, Robb locked the door behind him and sighed long and deep.

“Can you talk to me, love? Please?” he whispered just loud enough to be sure that she heard him.

“How could you say those things to Sansa tonight?” Margaery never really liked to beat around the bush. “She’s your sister.”

“Yes, she is.”

“You said it was her fault that Jon left! What does that even mean?” she demanded.

“I did not say that.”

“Seven hells, yes you did Robb!” Her voice started to rise.

“No. I said that she made him go south - “

“That’s the same thing, Robb! Can you hear yourself right now?” Margaery’s anger spiked, her southern courtesies flying out the window.

“Yes, I can hear myself and no, its not the same thing. Gods, Marg... it, it’s complicated... Okay?  Sansa… She didn’t… But he did it for her…”

“What?” Margaery’s face looked more confused than ever.

“Listen. Jon, he had made up his mind, and he was going no matter what anyone said to him. Dad and I, and even Theon tried to talk him out of it. We told him that he _was_ family, and nothing needed to change. But he insisted that he need to do this. That it was for Sansa...”

“What was for Sansa?” she questioned. It appeared that Robb only intended to speak in circles tonight and it was getting incredibly frustrating. When he didn’t reply, Margaery walked into the bedroom and began undressing. She stripped herself of her burgundy scarf and coat, before sitting on the bed to remove her boots. Once her feet were bare and she sat up and removed her blouse, she met his gaze once more.

“You know what I find amazing?” She paused briefly, not allowing Robb any time to reply, “the depths you and Arya will go in order to blame this on Sansa. She was broken when he left! Devastated! Its almost like you two were blinded by your own grief, and just couldn’t see that your  _Sister_ was going through hell. Jon left and broke her heart and when she needed her family to embrace her, you all stepped back. You have no idea what she’s been going through since he’s been gone”

“We were all hurt when Jon- “

“He was her first love, Robb! Does that not count for anything to you?” Margaery was starting to lose her patience. Starks were stubborn by nature, that she knew. But this game of fake or willful ignorance was driving her to her limit.

“She was fifteen when they started dating.”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything we’re discussing at the moment?” She pinned him with a glare, “Are you deflecting?”

“Please don’t psycho-analyzed me.”

“I wouldn’t if you didn’t make it so damn easy.” She muttered. Margaery was completing her master’s degree in adult psychology early next year. He has been a guinea pig to many of her case studies and theories. Not that he particularly minded, he knew she loved all his quirks, even if she knew the deeper meaning behind most of them. It was only when she used her skill in times like this that he truly felt at a disadvantage. What could his MBA add to this argument?? _Hostile takeover, anyone?_ He thought sarcastically.

“But truly Robb, you have no idea how much she’s been through since he left. And what’s worse is that it seems like you don’t even care!”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that tonight. And you know what? Its true! I have no idea what Sansa has gone through, because Sansa doesn’t tell me what’s going on with her!”

“And who’s fault is that?!” They were now in a shouting match.

“Apparently mine!” Robb snarked at her.

“Absolutely yours! Obviously! Gods, how hard is it just to be there for someone? But you can’t, can you? Because you’re too busy siding with Arya’s petty little tantrums… don’t try to deny it, you aren’t very good at subtlety. Either of you. Arya says what you feel, and you sit in silent agreement, you two have been doing this little dance with Sansa for years now and I’ve had enough. Do you understand me, Stark?  I have tried to separate myself and our relationship from the relationships you have with your family. But no more, not when Sansa is being put at risk! She is in a good place finally! She is successful in her own right and she is taking care of herself! You have no idea how many nights I stayed up waiting for a call from her, just to know if she was okay! Sometimes I wouldn’t hear from her for days, even weeks! She had to withdraw from university, so they wouldn’t kick her out! She couldn’t focus on anything! And then the drinking...” Margaery’s eyes began to swell with tears and her voice cracked as she continued her rant. “it was like she was trying to drown in her sorrows, and nothing could bring her out of if… Not after she... she lost... Gods, I thought she’d die too...”

“Lost? Lost what? Marg… was Sansa pregnant?” An unknown emotion bubbled in Robb’s chest, before sinking to the pit of his gut.

Margaery didn’t answer, nor did she meet his eyes. Instead, she continued to get ready for bed, slipping off her bra and underwear before stepping into her form fitting lacy night dress. She moved quietly to the bathroom and washed her face and brushed her teeth before turning off the lights, pulling back the covers and getting into bed. All the while Robb stood there, not really watching, for his entire world was spinning.

“Robb, come to bed.” She called.

He looked at her, then down at his state of dress before mechanically disrobing down to his boxers. He moved to his side of the bed and sat at the edge. He rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his face in his hands. He felt Margaery move behind him and place a kiss on his right shoulder blade.

“Tell me the truth, Margaery”

“I can’t,” she murmured against his skin. “The whole truth would break you. And besides, I’ve broken her trust enough for one night. These aren’t my secrets to share. You should really try to talk to her…”

 She moved away from him to lay down and he followed. Soon they were in their usual position, her head resting on his chest and his hand holding her close across her torso, and he inhaled the scent of her hair. She smelled like an exotic rose garden, there was nothing else like it and soon they would drift off to sleep.

But then she spoke again, softly.

“It seems to me that there are entirely too many secrets within this family. But I do know one thing for sure.”

“What’s that?” he asked while stifling a yawn. This has been an emotionally exhausting night.

“If I ever meet Jon Snow, I’m going to kick him in the knee caps for putting you all through this shit.”

Robb chuckled a bit, “He’s usually not that bad...” he said before a thought crossed his mind as her words played back to him. “Wait, how have you never met him? You had transferred to Winterfell Uni before he left. And I know that you and Sansa became friend as soon as you got here, she mentioned helping you unpack.”

“Yea, she wanted to introduce us. But he was working all the time. He was TA and I think she said he was starting to take longer shifts at some garage. Plus, it was his last year, just like you. Whatever free time he had, he spent with her.”

“That’s right, he was working a lot around that time. I barely saw him.” Robb sat up and stared down in front of himself, clearly deep in thought.

Margaery sat up with him.

“Okay, it looks like you’re having an epiphany babe. But you’re going to have to share with the rest of the class, alright?”

“Jon’s birthday is in August...” He trailed off.

“And you’ve lost me”

Robb turned and looked at her, the puzzle still very visible in his eyes.

“Jon’s birthday is always about two weeks before the semester started.”

“Okay…. What does that have to do with anything?”

“After Jon’s mother died, there was a custody battle between my parents and his father.”

“Rhaegar Targaryen.”

“Lyanna legally made mom and dad Jon’s guardians in case anything should happen to her. Not only that, but Rhaegar never signed Jon’s birth certificate, he wasn’t there was Jon was born. He wanted to take Jon south. But Jon had just turned fourteen and the judge allowed him to speak on his own behalf and he chose us.” Robb explained, “After that, Rhaegar only spoke to Jon once a year. On his birthday.”

“I don’t think I’m following you, babe...”

“Well, before Lyanna died she had put away some money for Jon and that’s what he used to pay for college. But in the middle of our junior year, the money ran out. Jon was stressed, but after he spoke with dad… He said everything was okay and took the TA position. We were set to start again late that August, when suddenly Jon was desperate to find another job.” Robb finished.

“So, what are you saying? That Rhaegar...?”

“Called Jon for his birthday.” He stated.

“And what, Robb?” Margaery leaned against his arm.

“I don’t know,” Robb said. “Only Jon knows…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors. I will try to edit this throughout the day.
> 
> The next chapter will be Jon recieving Arya's letter a few days after Thanksgiving.  
> Thanks for reading!


	4. News from the North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya's Letter finally reaches Jon. Robb reaches out.

_November 30, 2016_

**Dragonstone**

**Jon**

Jon had never had the luxury of being naïve. From a very young age he always had to be a bit more independent than his peers. That's not to say that he didn't have people he could lean on. His mother was the biggest supporter that he’d ever had. But being a single mother, especially at such a young age had come with sacrifices that she had to make. A lot of that included the time she had to spend with him.

Lyanna Snow was the adopted sister Eddard Stark, and when their parents and siblings passed in a tragic motor accident, he was left at the forefront of the family business. But Lyanna was a proud woman, always had been. She found herself pregnant at the ripe age of 16 and she decided that she would not take any handouts. She had left high school and decided to complete her GED while still carrying Jon. When she found out the father of her child was a married man with two young children, she decided she didn’t need him in their new lives. She wouldn’t take his money because she would not be held to any demands he may make of her or her unborn child. Eddard was recently married with a child on the way and he all but begged her to accept help.

Lyanna stayed in Winterfell bonding very quickly with a very pregnant Catelyn at the two became as sisters. Catelyn give birth to Rob first and a few months later John came bursting from Lyanna. The first two years of life the two grew close as brothers, playing together, crying together and even feeding together. It was during this time that Lyanna decided to start college. It was the best option seeing that Cat would be at home with the boys while she would be out taking her classes and Ned would go to work. With tenacity she was able to complete her four-year degree in only two years. Shortly after she found herself a job with Stark industries working as an independent journalist covering their many conquests, acquisitions and developments of the North. The North was a secluded domain and did not accept help from outsiders. The Stark dominated the business and media forums, leading them as they have for so many centuries before.

When Jon turned six, his mother had bought them a modest home not too far from Winterfell. Though he still spent many a week night with the Starks, their new home was a space meant only for them and they were happy. Her job meant that she spent a lot of time away from their home, covering stories all over the North, sometimes in the South and a few times in Essos. She had dated a few men in that time but none of them ever stuck. Jon was her priority and she wouldn’t compromise that for anyone. The Stark home was filled with siblings and Jon never felt alone.

However, Life would prove to be unpredictable. When Jon was thirteen, Lyanna had been following a story up at Queen’s Crown for a few weeks, flying back and forth many times. She started to complain of a headache that would not go away. When Cat finally dragged her to the doctor, they learned the truth. Lyanna had an inoperable brain tumor and was given only a few weeks to live. No one saw it coming. She spent her last days back at Winterfell surrounded by her brother, sister-in-law, her nieces and nephews, and her beloved son. On the night that she finally past, she promised Jon that everything would be okay. She also made him promise that he would never stop pursuing his dreams and that he would be happy.  That night Catelyn held him to her chest as he cried himself behind the point of exhaustion, whispering that they were family and he would always be home there, and nothing would break them a part. Nothing could.

Until Rhaegar.

Jon didn’t know why he woke that morning with those memories in mind, but it unnerved him. He did his best to push those thoughts back while making a mental note to call aunt Cat and catch up with the family best he could. Cat never made any demands of him and seemed to understand his desire or need to stay away. She did, however, always gently remind him where his family was and that things don’t get fixed until we fix them ourselves. He missed her as he missed the North and so many other things.

After he finished his morning routine, he met up with his assistant, Satin, on the helipad to catch the chopper that would take him to King’s Landing where Rhaegar was holding a board meeting Jon was ordered to attend. Satin ran through this morning’s update and delivered documents he would need to look over before said meeting.

“The schedule today is still unchanged. After the meeting with the board and your father, you have 12pm phone conference with the branch in the Stormlands. The project for the new location has some updates for you to look over.  And media headquarters is ready to for your proposal at 3 this afternoon.” Satin listed.

“Sounds good. After the phone conference I want to tweak some ideas in the proposal. Also, cancel dinner with Val tonight. I want to update any suggestion right away and will be working through the night.” Jon stated in a stoic tune. He had been growing tired of Val. Though she was beautiful, she seemed to be increasingly hinting at solidifying a relationship between the two of them. She has mentioned wanting to meet Rhaegar or spending the holiday together, and Jon had made it very clear when they started their fling, that anymore more serious then weekly outings and lusty passion filled encounter was simply out of the question for him.

“Will do, sir. Also, there’s a letter for you...” Satin seemed to hesitate on giving any further details.

“Who from?” Jon turned to him after they had boarded the chopper.

“Well…” Satin hesitated some more.

“What?” Jon demanded, losing his patience. If it was regarding the project, he didn’t understand Satin’s uncertainty. But why would anyone write him a physical letter, rather than send an email?

“It addressed from the North,” Jon froze, _the North?_ “From an Arya Stark.” Satin stated.

“Give it here” Jon said, and Satin placed the envelope into his hand.

When he opened the envelope, he saw that the letter was severely  creased as though it had been handling for a while before being posted. There were a few smudges and what looked like dried tear stains on it. But the hand writing seems a lot calmer, neater than anything Arya had ever writing before, though it was her writing. Dread filled him, but he was not prepared for the emotion upheaval the contents would bring him.

It read:

 

_Dear Jon,_

_I’m sorry to be writing you an actual ‘Dear John’ letter, but I didn’t know how else to reach you. Of course, I could have called. But I don’t think I can really say everything I need to say to you over the phone._

_I miss you, that goes without saying. Our whole family misses you. I think you know that, or at least I hope you do._

_Things haven’t been the same since you’ve left. There’s a void left, and no one knows how to fill it.  I think I have been more than understanding when it comes to you being away. Robb and I, and mom and dad, Bran and Rickon too, we’ve tried to be there for you as much as you allow us to. We’ve called and visited. But you have never given us the same thought or consideration._

_Up until now, I have blamed Sansa for you not being here. And I’ve let her know that many times. I’ve never really thought about things any further. If I’m being honest, it was easy to blame her. And it felt good to take out all my anger and frustration on her. I think Robb has done the same, though not as straightforward as I have. You told us you were leaving because of her and that made it her fault.  But you’re the one who left._

_And you’re the one who hasn’t come back. Not once._

_You missed my fencing champion matches, mine and Bran’s high school graduations, both of Robb’s college graduations, mom and dad’s anniversaries, Stark Industries celebrations and so many other little things that I must ask; Do you even think about us anymore? Did we mean so little to you? And your mother, what would she think?_

_This Thanksgiving was hard, and stupidly I just realized that Sansa hasn’t done anything to keep you away. I know she told you not to come back. But what about the rest of us? She made me realized that you chose to leave us, and you chose to stay away._

_Robb is engaged to Margaery. And I know you didn’t know that, he didn’t tell you. He didn’t tell you because he’s afraid his best friend will miss his wedding, and he doesn’t want to face the excuses that you’ll make when you do. And if you do miss his wedding, I know he won’t ever forgive you and that’ll be the end of it.  But he needs his best man, is that still you? You haven’t even met Margaery, how could you let this happen?_

_I said some things to Sansa tonight, things that I wish I could take back. And one day, I’ll be brave enough to try. I want to fix our family, and right now that still includes you. Mom and dad won’t say it, but I know that they’re hurt that you haven’t been home, just like the rest of us. Help us fix it, help us heal. Or we’ll do it without you, and you won’t need to come back. But you’re my brother and I love you. I need you to think about what you want to do. I don’t want to hear or read your reply. I’ll know where we stand if or when I see you. We will all know._

_Please come home for Christmas._

_Love always, your sister._

_Arya Stark._

Jon was floored. For the rest of the day he felt as though his head was spinning, all events and schedules past by like a blur and suddenly he found himself back in his penthouse apartment on Dragonstone. Alone. Sitting in darkness of the living room with only the fireplace as a source of light. His hands were still clutching Arya’s letter.  So many thoughts and emotions swirled inside of him.

He knew that staying away for as long as he did was wrong, and he knew that he was a coward to do it. But to hear what his family felt from Arya... That was a blow that he couldn’t have prepared himself for. Jon had forced himself to believe that they were all okay, living on without him there. That he was only hurting himself by remaining away. But that illusion was now shattered, and he had to face the harsh reality that he’d not only hurt the love of his life, but his entire family as well...

Robb… Brave Robb couldn’t even tell him that he was getting married for fear that Jon wouldn’t make it home to be there for him. _Would you have?_ He asked himself. And shame filled him when he realized he didn’t know with certainty if he would.

He had a sudden need to hear from Robb, at that very moment. Jon stood when reached for his cell phone. Before he could get to his contacts, the phone started to ring with an incoming call. It was Robb. _Speak of the devil_ , he thought mirthlessly.

“Hey man.” He answered quickly, willing his voice to sound cheerful, normal and not like the cowardice shit that he really was.

“Hey..” Robb seems hesitant. “I didn’t think you’d pick up, I was gonna leave a message”

“Yea, I stayed in tonight. Had some work to finished up for the morning” Jon fibbed, he hadn’t touched any work since he’d gotten in.

“Oh. Well since you’re busy I won’t keep you.” Robb said lamely.

“What were you going tell me?” Jon questioned. Hope sprang to life within him. If Robb could tell right now about the wedding, then maybe things weren’t as bad as Arya made it seem.

“Huh?”

“You said you were going to leave a message. What was the message?” Jon pushed.

“Oh right!” Robb sounded off, insecurity creeping into his voice. He pauses a moment and took a deep breath. Jon held his. “Um… there’s a project coming up in Stark Industries, after New Year’s. Dad wants me at the head. Its going to be at the Vale. I’ll be staying there for a few weeks. So, I wanted to tell you know that we could meet up sometime soon. I’ll come visit you, if you want.”

“That sounds great!” Jon said, feeling dejected. His brother couldn’t tell him the truth. He made the decision right then and there. He would do as Arya said and go home. For Christmas. But he wouldn’t say anything now. When he saw Robb, he would apologize and beg for his forgiveness. For all for the Starks forgiveness.

Especially Sansa’s. They may never be together again, but maybe they could start a friendship. _You’re hoping for too much,_ he told himself. But he must try.

 

But Jon didn’t want them to know he was coming. If they knew, the pressure… he couldn’t take it.  So, he told Robb,

“Listen man, I’ve got to go. And I want you to know that for the next few weeks I’m going to be super busy. Rhaegar has me on a new endeavor and it going to take up a lot of my time. But I should be done around Christmas. You’ll hear from me then. Okay?” He asked, hoping that Robb didn’t take this the wrong way.

“Sure, I understand,” Robb said, sounding a bit skeptical. “Christmas then.”

“I love you man, say hi to the family for me.” Jon offered, hoping that would sooth the blow.

“Love you too, brother. And will do” and with that, the call was ended.

******

**Robb**

He stood there, with the phone still him his hand. It didn’t make sense. Jon normally takes on a lot of work for Rhaegar, but he’s never been too busy for a quick call before. _Maybe things have gone too far…_

“You didn’t tell him, darling” Margaery state, sitting on the couch behind where Robb stood in the middle of the room.

“I know, but…” He trailed off. “I will. Trust me.”

Margaery stood and talked over to her fiancé before placing a sweet kiss on his lips. She smiled, looking up at him. She wouldn’t push, knowing that this family would only push back.

“I trust you with all my heart, my love.” She said.

And Robb smile back at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologizes for any spelling and grammatical errors. I will be editing throughout the day. Thank you for reading.
> 
> Tell me your thoughts on Arya and her letter. 
> 
> Next chapter will be a heart to heart between Robb and Sansa(some things may come to light), plus a little convo between Arya and Sansa.


	5. Pieces of a Puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so change of plans. I know I said we'd have some Sansa&Arya. But it didn't feel right in this chapter. Buuuttt! we have our first flashback!  
> Tell me what you think!

_December 17 th, 2016_

**Sansa**

She wasn’t sure where she was when she first emerged into consciousness. She knew that she hadn’t been sleeping very long and judging from the mild headache, slightly dry mouth, and a faint, familiar buzzed feeling in her head; she had been out drinking the night before. _Or was it still night?_ When her eyes adjusted to the darkened room, Sansa knew she wasn’t home.

It wasn’t until she felt a light weight of an arm snaked around her waist and heard soft snoring, that the memories of last night and this night start to flash before her eyes.

She remembered going to a bar in town. It was Friday night and Sansa had wanted to feel something. She threw back 3 shots of tequila before ordering a lemon drop, which she quickly downed as well. She remembered making eyes at dark haired man across the room. He came over quickly after she had sent him a flirtatious smile. She could not remember what they talked about nor whether it was interesting. But she did remember kissing him and whispering into his ear _“do you wanna get outta here?”_

After a decent make out session in the cab ride to his place, they had discarded their clothes in a rush and tumbled into his bed. At some point during their drunken fling, he had locked eyes with her, stroked her cheek and called her beautiful. It was nothing that she hadn’t heard before, but it was everything she didn’t want to hear in that moment. He then leaned down with the intention to kiss her, But Sansa closed her eyes, turned away and faked a very passionate, very throaty moan. It distracted him enough. 

Now here they were. Him, sleeping peacefully and her, trying to get from under his arm without waking him. The last thing she needed was a post coital conversation with a stranger. Sansa managed to get out of the bed with him none the wiser and mostly dressed. As she put on her jacket, her phone fell to the floor with a loud thump. The stranger stirred.

“Are you leaving already” he said in that sleep filled voice that any other girl would have found sexy. “I was hoping we could get breakfast together.”

Sansa rolled her eyes in the darkness and picked up her device.

“I’m sorry but I can’t stay, I have an early morning today.” She said smoothly. “I’ll call you later.”

That seemed to settle him, and he sighed with a little smile on his face. He whispered goodbye as she moved out of the room and toward to front door. As she made it out of the flat, she wondered passingly how long it would take him to realize that she hadn’t taken or even asked for his number.   _Oh well_ , she thought.

As she stepped out onto the street, Sansa checked the time on her phone. 5:52am, it read. She could easily call a taxi, but she wasn’t in much of a rush to get home. Plus, the local buses would be starting their routes soon. She recognized what part of town she was in and began walking to the nearest bus stop.

It was still dark when she made it to the stop. 6 o’clock on the dot and the bus pulled up. Sansa paid her little fare and took a seat in the back next to a window where she rested her head. She let her mind wonder as the bus moved along. Still a little drunk from the night before, she did not have enough willpower to keep those buried thoughts from resurfacing. There was one memory that was replaying, one she hadn’t thought of in a while.

_**_

_It was Valentine’s Day and Sansa was fourteen years old. She was sitting on a rope swing in the massive backyard of Winterfell, slowly swinging back and forth. Snow danced softly in the air around her, some landing in her red hair, some on her lashed and nose, and even some gently touched her lips before melting away. But Sansa wasn’t paying attention to any of that. Hot tears were making their way down her cheek and the redness of her nose had nothing to do with the cold. Today had been horrible._

_Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a blurry figure making their way over to her. When she turned and saw who it was, Sansa quickly tried to wipe her face, hoping that they hadn’t seen that she was crying. But there was no use, Jon Snow’s deep gray eyes rarely ever missed a thing._

_“Why are you sitting out here by yourself?” He asked as he took in her reddened cheeks and puffy eyes. “Sansa, What’s wrong?”_

_Sansa could only shake her head, not trusting her voice not to crack if she tried to speak._

_“Something is clearly wrong. Talk to me” He said with a gentle voice._

_“I’m just being silly” Sansa said softly, “I’m a silly, stupid girl. Just like everyone thinks”_

_“You are not. And I could never think that about you. Tell me what’s wrong, please?” He asked. After a moment, she replied._

_“Its Jeyne… Well it was Domeric and Jeyne...” Jeyne Poole was Sansa closest friend._

_“What happened?”_

_“Well, Domeric asked me to be his girlfriend last week.” She said, cautiously looking at Jon. Had this been Robb, Sansa would have had to fib. Robb didn’t like the idea of any guy at school getting too close to Sansa and he wasn’t afraid to make it known. But this was Jon, and more than anything else, Sansa wanted to be close to Jon. She wanted his attention, his comfort, his affection._

_It had only come to her knowledge the year prior. When he had brought home his first girlfriend, Ygritte and jealously had filled Sansa to the brim. She hadn’t been able to bare being in the same room as them and Sansa hated everything about Ygritte. The way she would hold onto Jon possessively, the way she would insult him time after time and he would only laugh it off, the fact that she had red hair too and Jon seem to love getting his fingers stock in her tangled locks. She even caught them making out one day after school. Sansa had sat deadly quiet for the entire ride back home and had practically ran to her room at the first opportunity, locked the door and quietly cried herself to sleep._

_Now he was looking at her with those soft caring eyes. And Sansa, like a starving man, wanted to devour every second of it._

_“Yes?” Jon prompted when she hadn’t said anything further._

_“And I didn’t want to say yes, I don’t really like him. But Jeyne had said that its want girls our age do, that we could go on double dates with her and Willem and that if I didn’t, she couldn’t be my friend anymore.” She continued._

_“That’s not a very good friend” Jon said._

_“And today, all three of them pulled me out of lunch and into the back staircase. Domeric told me that I had to kiss him to make it real. But I don’t want him to be my first kiss!” The tears were coming down her face faster now. “I like someone else” Sansa whispered, looking down at the snow-covered ground, unable to look up at Jon._

_“Oh.” Jon said stiffly, “And then what happened”_

_“Domeric called me a-” Sansa stopped herself and looked around, before meeting Jon’s intense gaze again. Then she continued slowly, “a cock-tease. And Jeyne said she couldn’t be friends with someone like me anymore”_

_Sansa paused for a moment and let the embarrassment she felt earlier today wash over her. She felt even more embarrassed after telling Jon of her small problems and crying about them. Before she could stop herself, she was apologizing to him._

_“I’m sorry, Jon. I don’t mean to- “_

_“Sansa stops. What are you apologizing for?”_

_“For over reacting like a child. I know I shouldn’t have let them get to me. I know I should be tough like Arya” **like Ygritte…**_

_“You and Arya are different people, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Just like there’s nothing wrong with you crying. Someone you considered a friend hurt you and that prick thinks he has the right to demand a kiss from you.  He doesn’t, no one does.”_

_Sansa thought she heard a hint of anger in Jon’s voice when he mentioned Domeric, but it was probably because she was his cousin and nothing more. When he continued, his voice sounded calm and reassuring again. And maybe a little sad too._

_“And I’m sure the person you like will understand that, okay?” He ended with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes._

_Her gaze went to the white ground again and she whispered sheepishly, “I don’t think he likes me back.’_

_“Come on, Sansa. Who couldn’t like you?” Jon said as his fingers lightly tipped her chin up so that she could meet his stare._

_And all at once, it was as though the world stopped spinning. There was no sound and the wind had gone still. The soft snowflakes still dance all around in the air, some clinging to Jon’s dark curls and long lashes. Even though the skies were cloudy, they seemed to be illuminated in light and warmth. His gaze penetrated her, and she felt as though those steely gray eyes were staring right through her heart and into her soul. Sansa felt like he could really see her, all of her. It was intimate, terrifying and exhilaration at the same time. Suddenly, she felt brave. Braver than she’d ever been in her entire life. Without another thought, she tilted her head up further until their lips met. And then, magic._

_There were no words to describe what kissing Jon felt like. It just right. His lips felt perfect against her, soft and firm. There was a warmth growing in her chest and spreading through her. She had never experienced anything like it. Her mind started to swim. But all too soon, it was over, and Jon pulled away and was staring at her wide eyed. Fear gripped her heart._

_“Sansa I-” But before he could say anymore, she cut him off._

_“I’m so sorry, Jon! I didn’t, I mean I shouldn’t hav-“_

_It was Jon who cut her off this time. He leaned in and captured her lips once more with a kiss that stole her breath from her body. Jon had kissed her, was kissing her. And all she could do, all she wanted to do was follow his lead. As she rested her hands on his chest, one of his had moved to her waist, pulling her just a little closer while the other caressed her cheek ever so gently. This moment was everything. When he pulled away again, they were both panting slightly and staring into each other’s eye, his finger still brushing against her cheek_

_“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. And Sansa’s heart had never felt fuller in her entire life._

_He took one step back and then another. The world began to move again, and the moment has passed._

_“Let’s go inside” Jon said, and all Sansa could do was nod as a smile played on her lips, now slightly plumper from their kiss._

_The next day when Sansa saw Domeric, he did not look in her direction. But when she saw that he now sported a black eye and busted lip, she smiled again._

_**_

When Sansa came out of her reverie, was at the gates of Winterfell. She quickly entered the code and walked up the long drive way. After letting herself in, she made her way into the kitchen for a glass of water before heading to her room. Exhaustion had finally set in on her and she striped out of her close and collapsed into the bed before pulling the blankets over her head.

She woke hours later with a stronger headache and dryer mouth.  She pulled back the covers and squinted, noting that she’d forgotten to pull the curtains before going to bed. Then she reached for the aspirin bottle on her nightstand and took pill while downing the glass of water.

After showering, washing her hair, and pulling on a loose gray sweater and black legging, Sansa went downstairs and into the kitchen. Robb was leaning against the island with two mugs in front of him while scrolling on his phone. When he saw her, he pushed a mug in her direction.

“I made you some coffee.” He said.

“Thank you,” she replied and took a sip. It was just how she liked it, Light and sweet.

After Thanksgiving, Robb had been making an effort to get closer to her. Margaery told her about their fight following that disastrous dinner, and that she’d let it slip about the baby in the heat of the moment. Sansa couldn’t really fault her though. She’d been the keeper of all her secrets for all these years and had faithfully stood by her side, holding her together as her world fell apart. When Margaery repeatedly apologized, Sansa told her there was nothing to forgive.

Robb had apologized for what he said that night, and Sansa forgave him. But he didn’t bring up what Margaery had said. Sansa suspected that he was waiting for the right moment. She hoped it wasn’t now.

“Are you here to see dad?” she asked, trying to sway his attention away from her.

“No, I’m here to talk to you actually.”

They moved to sit in the family room. Robb started again.

“Mom said you were out late last night”

“I was”

“Did you have fun?” He asked, staring down at the Pentosi rug that decorated the floor.

“Robb, what do you want to talk about?” Sansa asked, cutting to the chase. She had no desire to recount her night’s escapade with her older brother.

“Okay. I know that I have apologized for what happens on Thanksgiving, and you’ve said that it was alright. But I mean to apologized for everything. I’m sorry for the distance I’ve put between use these last few years. I’m sorry for letting Arya act how she has with you. It wasn’t right. I wish I could say that I had a good reason, but I don’t. I don’t even think there is a reason good enough to explain how things have been. I want to make it better. I want to earn your trust again, if you’ll let me.”

Sansa stared at him for a long moment. She didn’t know what to say or think. She missed her brother, but she was still hurt and bitter because of how he chose to handle things.  She didn’t want to keep living in the past though.

“Why do you blame me for Jon leaving?” Even gone, he still managed to constantly dominate their lives. It wasn’t fair.

“I don’t” Robb said quickly. It startled him a bit to hear Sansa call only his first name. All these years, she’d either refuse to talk about him, refused to say his name or called him the very formal and distant Jon Snow. “I know I said that you made him leave, but I never blamed you.”

“Robb that’s the same thing!” Sansa exclaimed.

Robb chuckled humorlessly.

“Marg said that too” he said as he looked to her. “Its complicated and hard to explain. But I never blamed you. Its different with Arya though.”

“She blames me.” She said flatly.

“That’s her issue.” He sighed before continuing. “I know you know what Margaery accidentally told me. Sansa, why didn’t you come to any of us? Does mom even know”

“How could I, Robb?? You wouldn’t have understood. And no. I didn’t tell mom. Margaery knows because she was there was, I first took the pregnancy test.”

“I would have been there for you Sansa. And I’m so sorry to have ever allowed you to doubt that. It will never happen again. Can you tell me what happened?”

“There’s really nothing to tell. I felt _off_ a few weeks after he’d left. I thought that maybe, maybe I might be… you know? So, I bought a test and took it. Margaery come over as I was waiting for the results. And we both saw that I was…” She trailed a bit before starting again. “She took me to the doctor’s and they confirmed it. I was about three months.” She said with a sad smile.

“And what happened?”

“I bought a ticket to King’s Landing-”

“What?!” It was Robb’s turn to exclaim.

“Look, Robb. I don’t really want to talk about this right now. Maybe it the future, but not now” She stood with tears in her eyes, holding the mug he’d given her. “Thanks again for the coffee” and with that she left him sitting there and moved into the kitchen.

**

**Arya**

There were many times in Arya’s life that she was thankful that she could move with stealth. In high school, she could sneak in and out of the manor without anyone’s knowledge, and it had always made her privy to the secrets of its inhabitants. This, however, was not one of those time.

She closed her eyes and gripped the bannister. She could feel tears welling behind her lids, and guilt building in her chest. She wished to the Old Gods that she could unhear what her sibling were just discussing, but she knew that she wouldn’t.

_Sansa had been pregnant…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for the great response to this story, and your comments meant so much to me. They motivate and inspire me to keep writing. Thank you all so much!!
> 
> Next chapter, Jon comes home.
> 
> Again, im sorry for all grammatical and spelling errors. and i'll be editing throughout the day.


	6. Beyond the Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon enters and everyone reacts.

_December 23 rd, 2016_

**Present**

**Jon**

Jon hadn’t been counting the minutes he’d been standing at the Starks’ front door. If he was forced to guess, He’d say 10, maybe 12 minutes. It wasn’t so much that he was hesitating, but more that I did not know what to expect once he crossed the threshold.  His mind had conjured different scenarios ranging from him being thrown out on his ass, most likely, to him being embraced by his long-missed family, least likely. Perhaps what would happen would be some happy medium of the two.  He was still unsure.

That was the main problem.

Once he had left the north, he had closed off that part of himself that allowed doubt and uncertainty to cloud his mind. If he was to leave everyone he loved behind, then he would make the most of it. From the first moments he interned at the Targaryen media empire, to heading his own department, Jon made sure that every word he spoke he spoke with confidence and certainty.  That and his work ethic and determination had taken him to this far with what most would call a bright future on his horizon. Rhaegar thought Jon worked so hard in order to earn his respect or love. Jon scoffed at that idea. His drive had nothing to do with the man. And his love was never anything Jon needed or even wanted in his life.

Jon was loved. At least at one point in his life, he was. Rhaegar, the Targaryens, and their empire was just a means to an end. An end that was supposed to be happiness, but perhaps Jon had squandered that chance. But it didn’t matter now. All that mattered was what was waiting for him on the other side of this door.

The door itself was a formidable thing, just as intimidating as the rest of the structure. It was old and wide, hand carved solid piece of dark wood. It was impossible to tell if it was darkened by age or by lacquer. In the middle was opaque glass with the Stark sigil formed in the center: a snarling Direwolf. Against the dark inside, it was hard for anyone to see exactly what lay beyond the door. Only shadows and figures.

Jon stood there, deep in his thoughts, torn between the desire to move forward and the impulse to flee. He was no longer the twenty-six-year-old who dominated the boardrooms of the Southern media. He was only a boy who face an uncertain future.  And that paralyzed him into immobility. He tried to envision the possibilities that were before him. But none of them seemed right. Would Ned throw him out? Robb wouldn’t turn his back in him, would he? Sansa, could she face him long enough for him to apologize for the years he couldn’t take back? Bran had always been so calm and patient, would he still be to hear Jon’s explanations or excuse? _Rickon won’t hold anything against him_ , he thought. Jon sighed.

All this time he had been staring, but his eyes were unseeing. So deep in his thoughts, he hadn’t seen anything but the entrance and what it meant to open it. He didn’t see the figure moving in the house, making its way to the door. He didn’t even hear when the lock clicked. He did notice when the knob turned and was startled into stepping back as the door flew open, revealing a familiar pair of blue eyes that seemed to match his own surprise.

Before he could act or think or speak, he was engulfed in a fierce embrace.

“Oh Jon,” a voice he’d known his entire life said. “You’ve come home!”

**

**Catelyn**

 

It wasn’t strange for her to be up this early. Having raised a brood of children, Cat had always been up before daybreak. But it was almost Christmas. This meant big family breakfasts, cooking, setting the table, making sure everyone’s favorite was in account. With several mouths to feed, she needed time to prepare. Honestly, she loved it. Spending time with her family brought her the greatest joy in the world, and cooking for them was one of her ways of showing each and everyone of them just how much they meant to her.

But she wouldn’t be making such a large feast this morning. Arya had decided to spend the night with a _friend_ , whom she’d insisted wasn’t a Boyfriend, but was a boy who is _just_ a friend. Rickon was up at lacrosse camp and would be picked up later today by her husband. Bran was spending the week at the Reeds, with Meera and Jojen, working on some project about ancient Northern myths and folklore. And Sansa said she needed some girl time with Margaery and had exiled Robb to his childhood room. Today’s breakfast would be only for her, her husband and their first born. But even though they’d all be back tomorrow for Christmas eve, one would still be missing.

Holidays always brought her mind back to Jon. He should be here, with his family. Nothing could change her mind about that. She missed him dearly. Catelyn had tried for years to be understanding about his departure. He was a young man and he wanted to accomplish things on his own, make a name for himself. But in her mind and heart, he could have done all of that here with his family. He shouldn’t be in the South, surrounded by strangers. _Though, I suppose they aren’t strangers anymore,_ she thought to herself.

Perhaps it was selfish of her. After all, the Targaryens were his family too. He just didn’t know them back then. He knew them now though. And for all intents and purposes, it seems that it was the Starks who were the strangers now. _No_ , Cat thought. _That isn’t fair_.

She knows Jon, knows his heart. She had known him for his entire life. He wouldn’t turn his back on them. _He’s just afraid_. She knew.

After everything leading up to him leaving, she knows that he’s afraid he doesn’t have a place here anymore. But one day, he will be back, and she will do everything in her power to remind him that this will always be his home. She only hoped that after all is said and done, he will be able to forgive himself.

Then her mind shifted to Sansa and the relationship she had with Jon. Her girl was heartbroken when he left. _Its as though he took her heart with him_. Cat thought bitterly.  She also knew that her daughter didn’t know why Jon had left. None of them did, not completely. Jon had been very tight-lipped in the time leading up to his departure. Cat herself understood that Rhaegar had made an offer to cover some of Jon’s debts, and that Jon was very eager to prove his worth. But she also knew that Jon loved Sansa truly and completely, and Sansa loved him right back. Since he’d been gone, her sweet girl had not been the same.

Catelyn shook her head. Trying to unravel what took place five years ago would serve no purpose today. She moved around the kitchen, first prepare a cup of Jasmine tea for herself before taking out the ingredients for breakfast. She noted that she was up a little earlier than usual, glancing at the antique clock that hung on the wall of the massive kitchen. It was 6:22am. There was no rush. She took her cup of tea and moved to the front room.

She didn’t turn the lights on, not wanting to disturb the calmness that had settled over her home during the night. The sun would be rising soon, not that she needed it or any other sort of light to move about in this space. Catelyn made her way over the small fireplace that was in this room. On its mantle were a few framed pictures that capture happy moments of her family. There was Arya’s first fencing championship match, Rickon’s first steps, Bran’s fifth grade spelling bee, Sansa’s first book signing, Robb’s college graduation, and Robb and Jon’s high school graduation. She picked that one up and studied the beaming face. She wondered exactly how her son was really fairing without his other half. Before Jon left… _they’d never known the world without each other.._ she thought sadly.

A sound broke her away from her thoughts. It was the low alarm that indicated someone had opened the front gate. It was most likely Arya, trying to sneak in early to avoid any questions. Catelyn looked around the room once more and wondered when her family would be whole again. Everyone missed Jon, everyone. Even Sansa, though she knew it tore her girl up inside to think of him. But things can be fixed, and hearts do heal. It would just take time. One day they’ll all be together again, Catelyn assured herself. Till then, they were all allowed to make their own decisions, and she would continue to be as supportive as she could.

As she turned to head back to the kitchen, the sight of a large black SUV through the front room window caught her attention. That was not the car Arya had left in the night before. It wasn’t Margaery’s car either. Or Theon’s. This vehicle belongs to no one she’d expect to turn up at 6am.

She stood rooted in her in place, staring through the window. The car shut off after a minute and a man emerged. The silhouette was familiar and foreign at the same time. His face couldn’t be seen in the gray hue of the morning. She knew the right response would be fear or at least apprehension. After all, she isn’t expecting anyone at this hour and this person had just made it past the gates and was now slowly walking up the front steps. But there was a feeling, deep in her bones. She knew this man.

Catelyn walked into the foyer, stood in the middle and peered at the door, through the frosted glass. He was standing just on the other side. He didn’t knock or ring the doorbell. He just stood there, as though debating his next move. After some time, she found herself moving to the door. _I should go get Ned, or Robb… But I must see. Could it really be...?_ She thought as her hand reached to undo the lock.

She opened the door and was met with a set of gray eyes that she’d know anywhere. He had filled out, was sporting a fuller beard, and his hair was a bit shorter than the last time she’d seen him. But those were his eyes, so much like his mother’s. She pulled him into her arms without a second thought.

“Oh Jon,” she whispered into his neck as her own eyes began to water, “You’ve come home!”

**

**Ned**

Ned wasn’t sure what woke him. But when he glanced at the clock on his nightstand, he saw that it was about time for him to get up anyway. When he looked over to his wife’s side of the bed, he was unsurprised to find her already gone. Cat always rose first. She was the backbone of this house and everyone knew it.

He got up out of the bed and stretch his tired old bones. It was the holidays and he had no need to be at Stark headquarters. This was a time for family. He intended to spend as much time with his as possible. They were almost all fully grown and out of the house, but he was grateful that they came back this time of year. Almost all of them.

He hadn’t seen Jon in about two years. Last time was when he had taken a business trip to King’s Landing to discussion a potential deal with Southern media, and Jon had been a part of the negotiations. Though in the end, talks fell through, Ned did spend time with Jon outside of the business setting. He missed him, but he tried to take Cat’s advice and not force or pressure him to return.

Ned was proud of the man Jon had become. He just wished he hadn’t felt the need to do it so far from home. Children grew up and spread their wings. But there was something about the way that Jon had left that never felt right to Ned. He had known the boy his whole life, had raised him along side his children. Jon was one of children if Ned was being honest with himself. Though his sister’s child, he was raised for the most part of his life in this very house. Never had he expressed any desire to start a life in the South. Rhaegar had something to do with this, Ned knew.

But that was for another day.

Now was for coffee and spending the morning with his wife. He began to make his way downstairs. As he descended the stairs that lead to the front of the manor, he noticed the door was open. He could hear his wife speaking in a hushed and almost frantic tone. Fear gripped him, and he increased his pace. When Cat came into view, he saw that she was being held by a dark-haired man. Before he could act, however, he saw that she held on to the man as well and in between her whispers, she was placing kisses all over his face.

Ned stood at the bottom of the stairs and admired the scene before him, a smile made its way to his normally stoic face. It seems almost impossible that his mind was just on this young man and now he’s chosen to walk back into their lives. For even though his back was to Ned, this could only be one person.

Jon and Cat had always shared a very special bond. He supposed it was because Cat was the one who had delivered Jon on that mid-august day, during a terrible summer storm that had made the road impossible for anyone, including the ambulance and himself to make it through.

They don’t tell that story enough. That should change.

Catelyn noticed him first, before Jon turned and their eyes met. _Lyanna’s eyes_ , Ned thought. He looked fearful to Ned, as though he thought he might be turned away. The idea almost offended Ned. But he remembered that Jon had a difficult time feeling accepted after his mother died. In this moment, Jon looked very much like that frightened thirteen-year-old.

He walked up to Jon and hugged him tight before placing a kiss on the crown of his head, though they were almost at eye level to each other. He pulled back and looked over the man who was a son to him in so many ways.

“You could have called” he said.

“I know, but..” Jon trailed off.

“Its fine, you’re here now. And just in time too!” he clapped his large hand against Jon’s back. “It’s almost breakfast time. Come.”

The three of them walked into the kitchen. The door was left ajar. Forgotten.

**

**Robb**

Waking up in his childhood bedroom brought back memories of holidays past. Today wouldn’t be like those. Tomorrow would. Having been kicked out of his own home did have its perks. His mother’s cooking was second to none, whether being an elaborate feast or simple meal. And being the only offspring home guaranteed that she’d be making his favorite quick breakfast dish, cinnamon oatmeal.

Robb quickly hopped out of bed and went downstairs. When he got to the foyer, he saw that the door was not close, which was very odd. After shutting it, he then noticed that it wasn’t the sweet scent of cinnamon that filled the air, though it was oatmeal. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what kind it was. He began walking to the kitchen and heard the distinct voices of his mother and father. But there was someone with them. They were laughing and speaking very animatedly. His mother’s voice held that very special tone that meant she was exceedingly delighted.

He turned the corner and entered the kitchen.

If someone had asked Robb what he’d expected to find in the kitchen, Jon Snow sitting at the island eating a bowl of blueberry oatmeal while conversing spiritedly with his parent would not have made it onto the list of possibilities. But low and behold, here they all were.

Jon saw him first and their eyes locked.

This was odd. He’d expected to feel a rush of joy and relief when Jon finally come back home. And there was joy, and there was relief. But the overwhelming emotion that consumed him was a deep and smoldering anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very difficult for me to write and I feel like it reads as lazy writing. I prefer to write heavy dialogue driven chapters. But this was mostly observations and internal monologues. Let me know what you all think, and please give me any suggestions/tips if you any.
> 
> Thank you for reading.
> 
> And I'll be editing throughout the day.


	7. Hearts and Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb and Jon have their first talk. Sansa learns that Jon is back. Arya and Jon reunite!

_December 23 rd, 2016_

**Continued**

**Jon**

The joy that came from seeing his brother and being home again after so many years was decidedly one-sided. There was no mistake to it. Robb’s eyes burned through him with a fury he’d seen before but never directed at him. The tension in the room rose to a suffocating amount. You could hear a pin drop. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ned take hold of Cat’s hand and pulled her towards the doorway.

“Come on, Love,” Ned said in a low voice, “let’s leave the boys to catch up.”

Cat hesitated, clearly not wanting whatever was bound to happen as soon as the left to occur. But then she sighed in resignation and allowed her husband to escort her form to kitchen, while giving Jon a small smile that seemed to say _everything will be okay_.

Jon returned his attention to Robb. He looked tense and his eyes reflected conflict, as though he himself was not sure how he wanted to precede. Jon decided to make the first move.

“Robb,” he said. “I’ve missed you, brother.”

“You missed me?” Robb questioned, moving closer. “What are you doing here?”

A slight sense of awareness fell on Jon. He’d seen Robb in this mood before and knew for a fact a physical altercation was very much possible. Robb had a temper, they all did in their own way. But Robb had a tendency to speak with his fist if properly provoked. And judging from his current demeaner, Jon’s presence was doing a damn fine job of provoking. 

“I’m here to spend time with my family.” Jon said as calmly as he could. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming. I thought it’d be best just to come.”

“Oh.” Robb responded. “So, you believe you can just walk in and out of our lives whenever you feel like? And never mind not telling me you were coming. It seems you’ve made it a habit of keeping things from me. From all of us really.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Why did you go South?” Robb demanded, raising his voice slightly.

“I went South because I didn’t have any other choice.” Jon said in an even tone. This wasn’t the first conversation he wanted to have with Robb.

“That’s not an answer”

“That’s my answer!” Jon said, almost shouting. He could feel his own patience wearing thin. “I was backed into a corner and there was no other way out.”

“You told all of us it was for Sansa,” Robb stated flatly.

“It was. Robb, listen. You’re right. There is a lot that I didn’t tell you or anyone for that matter. I thought I was doing the right thing. Now… I don’t know. I’ll tell you everything, I promised. I want to fix it.”

“How long are you staying, Jon?” Robb asked in a tone meant to sting.

Jon was silent for a bit, thoughtful. He had meant to spend about two weeks in Winterfell, hoping he could atone for his misdeed and be out of everyone’s way quickly. But from this conversation, he could tell two weeks won’t do it.

“For as long as it takes.” Jon stated with finality in his voice.

Robb seemed to consider his words for a moment. He studied Jon in silence, his anger receding. But there was still some bitterness in his gaze. Then he turned and began to walk away.

Jon spoke again.

“I’m not the only one who’s been withholding things, am I Robb?” He asked.

Robb turned and look back at him, his stare wavered.

“What?” He asked Jon.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged?”

“How do you know that?”

“Does it really matter?” Jon asked pinning him with his eyes.

“So, Arya then.” Robb stated but Jon didn’t reply.  Robb sighed and continued. “I didn’t think you’d come, honestly. And I didn’t want to hear whatever excuse you might make.”

“I will always be here for you, Robb.” Jon said earnestly. He stopped himself from focusing on the shame that resided in the back of his mind. It hurt to hear Robb’s doubt in him, but not as much as recognizing the coward in himself.

“Was it guilt that brought you back, then?”

Jon didn’t respond, he couldn’t.

“Enjoy your stay, Snow.” And with that, Robb left the kitchen and Jon to his thoughts.

**

**Margaery**

“What?!” Margaery exclaimed into her phone. She couldn’t possibly have heard her fiancé correctly. Her outburst gained the attention of Sansa, who was exiting the bathroom, having just taken a shower. Margaery winced, and tuned Robb out as Sansa began to approach.

“What’s wrong, Margie? Did something happen?” Sansa asked, concern very evident in her voice and on her face.

“Ah…yea Sans. Just talking to Robb. You know how dramatic he can be,” Margaery said as she slapped a smile on her face. “I’m going to take this in the other room. You just get dressed and we’ll go get breakfast at that little diner that has the lemon butter cakes you love so much. I don’t really feel like cooking right now.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Sansa said, sounding very skeptical. But the promise of lemony desserts did its job and she lefts the living to dress for the morning. Margaery was able to refocus on the conversation at hand.

“Now what did you say?” she asked into the phone.

“Jon is here. Right now. He’s staying for the holidays” Robb sounded tenser than she’d ever heard him sound before.

“What is he doing here?”

“He says he wants to fix things. With all of us. He plans to stay for as long as it takes, according to him.” Robb stated as he released a harsh sigh.

“Well...” She paused, considering her words carefully. “That’s good, in a sense. Did you know he was coming?”

“Do I sound like someone in the _know_?” Robb snarked at her.

“Okay, watch the tone. You’re angry at him, not me.” Margaery warned, trying to hold on to her patience. Now was not the time to be yelling at one another.

“I’m sorry, love. I am angry at him and I’m not sure why. I missed him and I’m glad he’s here. But he just shows up?? No call?  No nothing! What does he expect?!”

“It’s okay, darling. I understand.” She said, trying to sooth him through the phone. Then she asked what has been on her mind since the start of this call. “Did he say anything about Sansa?”

“He said he wanted to fix things with all of us. I’m assuming she’s included but I don’t know. He’s still keeping something from me, from us! I know it! I just want to beat it out of him!”

“Relax, hun. He just got back. We can’t expect him to just dive right into the thick of it. If he wants to fix things, he’ll have to get into it eventually.  Besides, you have to give me a chance to kick his ass first,” she joked.

“Woe to the ones who cross Margaery Tyrell.” She could hear him smiling as he said that.

“That’s the future Mrs. Stark to you.” She teasingly chided.

“Damn right.” Robb said with pride in his voice.

It was Margaery’s turn to sigh. Jon returning unannounced complicated things for all of them. She was now in a tight spot. It was her duty as a friend to warn Sansa of what was waiting for her at home. But telling her… She wasn’t sure how Sansa would react. Margaery had an idea about what Sansa’s current feelings for Jon were, not that she’d ever said anything out loud about it. Facing Jon would be good for her in the long run, but it could also send her spiraling through the past. She knew her friend was strong, the strongest person she knew really. But matters of the heart were complicated.

“Do you think I should tell Sansa before we get there?” she asked Robb.

“As oppose to what? Letting her walk in here to be completely ambushed by him?”

 _He’s right_ , Margaery thought to herself sadly. Sansa would need to be as prepared as possible before seeing Jon Snow again.

“I’ll tell her before we come over tonight.”

**

**Arya**

Gendry had just dropped her off at the front steps, placing a kiss on her cheek. She stood there and watched him drive off. As she turned to enter the manor, the sight of a black SUV caught her attention. She didn’t recognize it. It was deeping into the late afternoon, the sun would set soon. So, either her parents were having guests for dinner (unlikely)…or… _Oh my god he’s here,_ she thought as she rushed up the steps and through the door.

“Hellooo...!” she called out eagerly as soon as she set foot through the doorway. “I’m home! Who else is here?”

In the time between Thanksgiving and now, she’d been riddled with anxiety. She knew Jon, knew he’s love for family. But in the years that he’s been gone, doubt brewed beneath the surface of her loyalty to him. Sansa had peeled back the layers, and that doubt had spread. It was very possible in her mind that he would choose to stay away, no matter how un-Jon-like it seemed in a rational sense. But now…

But now, no one had answered her. She was standing in the foyer alone in the quiet house. _Maybe I was wrong, he isn’t here,_ she thought.

Dejected, she began to move toward the staircase. She would go to her childhood room and contemplate her next move. If Jon was finished with them, and it certainly seemed that way at the moment, then she’d have to be done with him too and begin to work of the family that remained to her. She’d start with Sansa, beg for her forgiveness and try to revive the relationship they once had…

Tears welled in her eyes as she began her ascent. _It was foolish to think one letter could change things. I can’t control him either, Sans,_ she thought.

“I’m here,” a familiar voice said.

Arya whirled around and was met with Jon’s smiling face. Without a second thought she was flying back down the stairs and jumping into his open arms.

“You came!” she whispered, as he twirls her around. He set her down on her feet, but they didn’t release each other.

“Of course, I did” Jon said, smiling down at her. “You didn’t give me much of a choice”

“There was a choice. You made the right one.” Arya said looking up at her brother, her tears spilling down her cheek.

“Those better be happy tears” Jon teased. “I never thought I’d see the day when Arya Stark would cry over little old me.”

“Me? Cry for you?” she smirked, “I would never!”

The held onto each other for a while longer, before stepping back.

“So, when did you get in?” Arya asked.

“This morning. Who dropped you off? Aunt Cat mention a boy who is a friend, but definitely not a boyfriend.” Jon raised an eyebrow at her.

“He isn’t my boyfriend!” She exclaimed, a blush rose up her neck and bloomed around her cheeks as she tried her hardest not to smile.

“Right. Of course not.” He replied sarcastically.

They walked into the family room and sat of the grand gray sectional.

“Where is mom and dad, by the way?” She asked.

“They went out to run some last-minute errands for tomorrow, then they’re going to pick up Rickon.” He paused, looking as though he was unsure if he wanted to continue. But he did, “Robb left, but didn’t say where he was going.”

“Oh?”

“Yea…” Jon hesitated again. “He’s angry. With me, at me being here. We talked a bit. But I don’t know what to make of it. You were right…” He said not meeting her eyes. “I think he might hate me.”

“No one here hates you Jon.” He looked at her then. She could tell they were thinking of the same person in that moment.

“Things are so complicated right now, Jon. So much has happened. And there are things you need to know!”

“Like what?” Jon asked, the space between his brows creased.

“I... I can’t tell you…”

“Well that’s helpful” He stated in a snarky tone.

“Shut up!” Arya smacked his arm with the back of her hand. “They’re not my secrets to share. I shouldn’t even know”

“You were eavesdropping”

“Accidentally!” She tried to explain, “I wish I didn’t know, but I do.” She paused and looked over at him. “Im glad you’re home Jon.”

“I’m happy to be here.” He sighed with a thoughtful look on his face “No matter what happens.”

**

**Margaery**

They sat in café of the Wintertown mall. Margaery was bouncing her knee and fidgeting with her hands. From time to time, she would grasp her cup of chai tea, pick it up and put it back down without ever taking a sip. She stared out of her window and into the crowds of people doing last-minute holiday shopping, clearly deep in thought.

“And I think I’ll invite a deer to the wedding as my date. I could fashion a grass dress and let him eat me on the dance floor.” Sansa stated, staring at her friend, smirking.

“That sounds great, Sans.” Marg said absentmindedly.

“Margaery!”

“Hm?” Margaery finally turned to look at her.

“You’re distracted. Something is clearly bothering you. Talk to me.”

Margaery looked for her for a moment before sighing and taking a sip of her now cold chai tea.

“Oh Sansy…”

“What is it? It has something to do with Robb’s call this morning, right? I mean, you bought me three slices of lemon cake. Then almost every shoe I pick up, plus a purse and two dresses. I know the _Tyrell pockets_  are deep, but us Starks aren’t exactly struggling.” Sansa said with a little laugh. “So, tell me what’s on your mind? Why are you splurging on me?”

“You’re right” She said, sounding defeated. “It does have to do with Robb’s call.”

“What did he do?” Sansa demanded, ready to rip her brother a new one for whatever his misdeeds were.

“It isn’t about me, love.” Margaery reached across the table and took Sansa hand into her own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Jon’s back.”

She snatched her hand away in surprise.

“What?” She asked softly.

“That’s why Robb called this morning. Apparently, Jon’s at the house right now and he’s staying for the holidays” She paused to gage Sansa reaction. “We don’t have to go there tonight! We can go back to my place and I’m sure everyone will understa-”

“NO!”

“No?”

“I mean…” Sansa trailed off for a moment. “I mean, we have to go. Mom loves having all of us home for Christmas Eve. I don’t want to disappoint her by not being there” she explained.

“But I’m sure she’d understand if you didn’t want to be there, with him. You don’t need to force yousel-“

“I’m not forcing myself.” Sansa said, cutting her off again.

Margaery stared at her, unsure of what to think or say. Sansa’s face was filled with a mixture of emotions Margaery could not readily identify. It wasn’t sadness or anger.

“Plus, why delay the inevitable,” Sansa continued. “I’ll have to face him eventually.”

“Right,” Margaery said, watching her best friend some more. _If I didn’t know better, I’d say she wants to see him,_ she thought to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Jon and Robb's interaction was hard. I'll try to clarify Robb's feeling in the future.
> 
> Next chapter: Sansa and Jon come face to face
> 
> Thank you for reading and i apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors. I'll be editing throughout the day.


	8. Fool's Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner with the Starks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... I believe I said somewhere in the comments that it had to get worse before it gets better. Well..this is the getting worse part.

_December 23 rd, 2016_

**Dinner**

**Catelyn**

_This is going to be a good night,_ Catelyn thought to herself.  She looked over the dining room table once more.  And though it was quite modest compared to what was in store for the next two days, she had made more of an effort than she normally would. The steak and kidney stew, with peas and onions was a favorite among all her children, Jon included. It took almost the whole evening to prepare, but it was a labor of love, and now her family would enjoy.

Catelyn sighed, contently. Even though Bran wouldn’t be home till the wee hours of the morning, the pack was finally whole once more. What more could she really ask for? _For everyone to get along?_

She recalled the heated reunion Robb and Jon shared earlier that day. Perhaps that was a hint of what was to come. The two had always been as close as brothers. They _were_ brothers and it was very strange to ever find them at odds with one another.

She shook her head to holt that line of thinking. It was surely just the shock of seeing Jon home that had Robb seeming so bothered by his brother’s presence. She reassured herself, _this is going to be a good night._

But if this was to be so, it was off to a poor start.  When she and Ned had returned home, the downstairs was completely empty though there were signs that Arya had returned. Jon and Arya were somewhere on the third floor catching up with each other. Robb was not home. After she had gotten dinner started, Sansa and Margaery entered the manor. Margaery had come into the kitchen to help with the preparations, but Sansa headed straight to her room, only offering the briefest hello, stating that she wanted to shower before dinner. Cat noted Margaery watching her daughter leave with a strange look on her face, but when their eyes met, Margaery only smiled and asked how she could help. Robb came back as Ned was heading out to retrieve their youngest. He was visibly upset still. Margaery gave a bashful smile, before leaving to tend to her fiancé. Ned returned about an hour later with an excited Rickon, who was eager to find Jon, dashing up the stairs.

Now here she was. The table was set, and she had sent Ned to bring everyone down. Rickon was first, her eager wild wolf, followed by Jon and Arya. They all sat on the same side of the table with Jon in the middle, all animatedly chatting amongst themselves. Then came Ned, giving her a kiss at her temple and whispering how amazing everything smelled, before taking his place at the head of the table. Next came Margaery and Robb. There was a noticeable pause when Jon looked up and met eyes with Robb. Margaery, however, was looking at the table and chairs. She seemed to think to herself a moment, pursing her lips, before walking over to take the seat in the middle, opposite of Jon. Robb followed and sat to her left, next to his father. Tension began to rise around the room, but Margaery smiled politely at Jon.

“We’ve never met,” She said to him in a kind, measured voice, “I’m Margaery.”

“Jon,” he introduced himself to her. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you?”

“Yea, from Robb and…” He paused and seem to consider his words, “…and from before”. He held her gaze though it seemed he wanted nothing more than to turn away in that moment.

“Yes. Before.” She blinked, and her smile tightened. “Its nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Surely the atmosphere would ease as the night went along.

Sansa come down last. Her hair seemed to shine like polished copper in the low light of the even. It was brushed into submission, Catelyn could tell, seeing that the natural waves were gone and there was only a slight curl at the ends. She was dressed in all black. An almost skin tight black long sleeve dress that ended a bit higher than mid-thigh and show off dip of her waist and spread of her hips, a truly lovely figure.  Under was a pair of black tights that clung to her long, shapely legs. The thought _‘dressed to kill’_ came to mind.

Cat had known since her birth, that Sansa would grow into a great beauty, and that was true. But there was effort here tonight. She wore little make up, only eyeliner that made her blue eyes sparkle like sapphire and a dark colored gloss on her lips. She looked every inch a woman on a mission.

Cat looked back to the table and saw that while most glanced up as Sansa entered, Jon now openly gaped at her. His eyes roamed all over her form, drinking in the sight of her from top to bottom. Sansa looked at everyone but Jon, before taking her seat next to Margaery.

When Catelyn finally sat, opposite of Ned, dinner began. Everyone took turns serving themselves while politely requesting others to pass some dish or item they need. It was quiet, too quiet. Not at all like the ruckus dinners of days past. It didn’t fit in her reality. This wasn’t the family she knew. She sighed and took sip of water. The silence stretched across the room, accompanied only by the sounds of utensils clinking against the plates.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sansa place her knife and fork down. She peered down at her plate for a moment before looking up to stare directly at Jon, who’s eyes were still casted down. She smiled. A cold, calculating smile. And then she spoke.

“So, Jon,” She began, and he frozen upon hearing her voice directed at him. He looked up at her before she continued. “You’ve returned.”

“Yes…” he said, “I have” He spoke slowly as though he was trying to direct his way through a minefield.

“No. I meant _why_ have you returned?” Sansa said as she maintained her icy gaze.

“I… I wanted to… I mean...” Jon could quite decide what he wanted to say.

“After all this time, surely there must be a reason you’ve decided to grace us with your presence. Hm?” Sansa pressed.

“I missed being here, being home.” He answered her quietly.

“ _Home?_ Is this your home, though?” She continued.

“You know it is.” Jon sighed, “Sansa, can we please not-”

“Don’t tell me what I know.” She bit out harshly. “It seems as though we’re simply not as cultured as what I’m sure you’re use to now.”

Jon sighed again but stayed quiet.

Catelyn thought back to all those years ago, back when these two had first started dating. Maybe she should have forbade them, kept them apart. Perhaps then they wouldn’t be here now, like this. But it was too late. She looked at Ned, he was already staring at her as though he was thinking the same thing. They agree so long ago to stay out of their children’s personal lives, be it romantic or not. They’d also agree to never take sides when it came to Jon and Sansa. _Was that even still an option_ , she asked herself. _Who is in the wrong?_

The two in question had, in turn, agreed to never drag the family into their relationship. But looking back now, that was never really a possibility. When Jon and Sansa fought, war lines were drawn. And excluding herself and Ned, and sometimes Bran, everyone fell to a side. The house would be in turmoil, chaos until they made up. Looking around the table now, Catelyn could see the Great War for Dawn on the horizon.

“What are you doing here?” Sansa asked again.

“I told you. I wanted to come home”

She scoffed, “And why would you want that? Apparently, you’re a very big deal in the South, practically a prince from the way I hear it. What could ‘home’ possibly have to offer you?”

“That’s a good question” Robb chimed in, now glaring across the table at Jon.

“Robb..” Arya said in a low voice. She had been very uncharacteristically quiet since this conversation started.

“No! He just shows up here and we’re suppose to believe its just because he missed us?? Why now?” Robb demanded. Margaery placed a hand on his arm, trying to calm him.

“I did miss you! All of you!” Jon’s own voice began to rise. He looked back and forth between Robb and Sansa.

Sansa scoffed again. “I don’t believe you.” She said calmly, the cold smile still painted on her lips.

“Are you calling me a liar??” Jon all but yelled, Sansa really did know how to push his buttons and she was doing just that tonight.

“I’m calling you someone who does not tell the truth.” Sansa said.

“Sansa listen,” Arya started again, “I actuall-” But she was cut off by Jon.

“No Arya, its fine.” He said.

Sansa looked at her sister for a moment before returning her attention to Jon.

“So, tell us all about your life. Your successes, your exploits, your conquests. Its one thing to read about them, but we would _love_ to hear it from you” sarcasm dripping in her voice.

“It’s nice to know you care enough to read about me.” Jon answered, matching her tone.

“Don’t mistake my interest with affection.”

“I could never mistake the two, I know them both so well.” His eyes were locked onto hers. The smile left her face.

“You shouldn’t have come back, you definitely shouldn’t stay.” She said after a long moment.

Rickon gasped and whispered pleadingly to her, “Sansa…stop, please”. But She didn’t spear him a glance.

“Well its good to know you don’t actually have the authority to kick me out, do you Sansa?” Jon asked in an almost mocking tone.

“Did it take you five years to figure that out or could you just not be bothered with having to see your family? Oh wait!” She feigned realization, “You have a new family now, and a new home too.”

“Sansa!” Ned scolded on a low voice. But Sansa didn’t seem to notice as she continued.

“Perhaps you never really needed us, any of us!”

“Stop it, Sansa! You know that’s not true.” Jon implored. The rest of the table had gone silent, watching the scene unfold before their eyes.

“Do not tell me what I know!” She shouted at him once more.

“Sansa please, just listen to me. I asked-” Arya started.

“Stay out of this, Arya!” Sansa cut her off.

“Lower you voice now.” Cat could take no more. But as she looked at her eldest daughter’s face, she could clearly see that Sansa was too far gone.

“They are always on your side no matter what you do. Is that why nothing matters to you??” There was a faint crack in her voice as she questioned Jon. “Does any of this mean anything? Is it all so easy to walk away from?”

“Stop.” Jon said, but he was unable to maintain her stare that seem to burn right through to his soul.

“Why? Can’t handle the truth?” She pressed on.

“This isn’t the truth. You don’t know truth!”

“If I don’t know the truth, it is only because you are a liar Jon Snow.”

“I have never-!” Jon stopped himself and took a deep breath. “You know what? No. I’m not going to do this with you. Not when you’re acting like the brat you’ve always been.”

“Oh, I’m a brat?” Sansa questioned, daring him to respond. Her smile returned, but to Cat it looked like a twisted and bitter thing resting on her daughter mouth. Nothing like the sweet girl she’d always been.

“Yes, you are. And you know it.” Jon stated, taunting her right back.

“And you’re just a sad orphan searching for a place you wont ever find.” Sansa said, deadly calming and staring straight into Jon’s eyes before she continued, “But I guess we all have our tragedies.”

There was an audible gasp from most who sat around the dinner table and all heads snapped to face Sansa’s direction. A line was just crossed, and they had entered uncharted territory. Some only stared at her in disbeliefs, some whispered her name in disapproval. But she almost looked proud of her work. Jon only stared at her with big hollow eyes, shock and hurt radiated through his being.

“Sansa Alysanne Stark! Get in the kitchen now!” Cat commanded in a tone that left no room for negotiations. Sansa still assessed her mother for a moment before following the order. Catelyn was hot on her trail.

When they made it into the kitchen, she stared at her daughter incredulously for a while as she was met with a gaze of defiance.

******

**Sansa**

She stared at her mother, her features hardened. She would not be made to feel bad about this. However, the look her mother was giving clearly said otherwise.

The silence was deafening between them, and her mother’s eyes was chipping away at her resolve. But she couldn’t break. Not now. Not when she’d finally been the one to deal out a blow, rather than constantly being on the receiving end.

“What has gotten into you?” She spoke harshly, but low. it seemed that she didn’t want the others hear what she had to say to Sansa.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you dare feign innocence after that display. Have you lost your mind?” her mother asked.

“Have ** _I_** lost my mind?! Are you ser-”

“Don’t you take that tone with me and I told you to lower your voice!” Catelyn reprimanded.

“How is it that Jon can do whatever he wants…hurt whoever he wants, and he gets away with it… but the moment I say something back, I’ve lost my mind?” She asked in a soft restrained voice.

“Is that what you think you did in there? You just said something back? No. You don’t get to hide behind flimsy excuses. You are an adult Sansa, not a child.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because you weren’t acting like it. Not in there and certainly not here with me.” Her mother’s hard eyes softened a fraction before she spoke again. “I know that Jon hurt you. I know he did. And I also know that I’ll never truly understand the depths of your pain. But I do understand heartbreak and I will always be there for you. Do you know that?”

Sansa stared into her mother’s eyes for as long as she could before breaking her gaze and casting her own eyes down with a sigh. “Yes” she replied in a whisper.

“Good. Now what you did in there was not just saying something to Jon. You weren’t defending yourself, and you weren’t getting even. You were simply being cruel. You knew what would hurt him the most and you used it to do just that. And I did not raise you, any of you to be cruel because there is no joy to be had in someone else’s pain.”

Sansa stared at the floor. She wanted to disagree. She wanted to argue that she did feel good, that getting back at Jon made her feel powerful. That making him hurt for a change gave her the best high she’d ever have. But the feeling of victory that she had in the dining room was fading. It was a hollow victory, she realized. _Hollow...like the look in Jon’s eyes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for all errors. I would like to remind everyone of the dysfunctional family tag, it was explored in this chapter. Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading.
> 
>  
> 
> Next chapter will be Christmas eve.


	9. Night of Dreams and Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas(Belated) and happy holidays!
> 
> Dream/Flashback ahead!

_Her heart was racing, pounding in her chest. And her body was buzzing with excitement and anxiety. When she wasn’t focused on herself, she could hear the muffled voice of her family moving about the house, getting ready for bed. It was a big night, and she had faked a headache and excused herself early with a specific plan in mind._

_Tonight was Robb and Jon’s last night home before leaving for college in the morning. The family was in mild chaos preparing for their departure. They were all packed up and were now just taking care of some last-minute details. Her mother had prepared a grand feast for the occasion, though everyone just picked around their plates, sad that they’d be losing two members of the family for they next several weeks._

_Now, here she was in her boyfriend’s room, sitting on his bed hoping to surprise him once he decided to retire for the night. He and Robb would be driving out early the next morning with their father to get situated up at Queen’s Crown University. Sansa hoped that she’d be able to give him a parting gift that he’d never forget._

_She had saved all her money from her summer job at the Wintertown Mayor’s office for this reason. Last week, all by herself, she found herself in the high-end lingerie boutique. As inexperienced as she was, she was thankful her the sultry sales woman, Melisandre. She was patient and helpful, pulling sexy and modest numbers for Sansa to try. They both setting on the ensemble she wore now: a floor length black, silk robe hung off her shoulders, slightly covering the matching black lacy bra and panty set. The bra had small red bows over her nipples and the panties had the once single red bow in the middle of the front. The lace in the back was very sheer and left little to the imagination._

_When she had gotten ready in her room earlier, there was a black garter belt and stocking to complete the look. But Sansa chose to forgo those items, feeling that it was a bit much. Now, sitting in Jon’s bed, she knew that was the right choice. She felt sexy, sexier than she’d ever felt. She hoped that Jon would like it, and not laugh in her face for her efforts to please him. But Jon would never laugh at her, she assured herself._

_Focusing on the noise coming from the hall outside the bedroom door, she heard the distinct sound of her parent’s door closing, then Robb bidding Jon goodnight. Her heartrate tripled in speed. At fifteen. Sansa was very much a virgin, Jon had never been pushy about taking the next step. They’d been together for ten months now and their one-year anniversary would fall in October while Jon would be far north until Thanksgiving. Her parents would never allow her to make that trip alone and if the whole family went, when would she ever get to have Jon all to herself? It had to be now, tonight. And she was ready._

_As the doorknob turned, Sansa took a deep breath and forced the nerves from her body. Jon came into view but didn’t see her at first. He turned and began undressing, before stopping dead in his tracks. His hands fell to his sides as he stared at her, lips parted and eyes gaping. Moments passed as he stood there, unmoving. He licked lip and his eyes darkened. A look of hunger and desire moved across his features before he took a step back and cleared his throat._

_“Sansa,” he whispered her name, and the sound of his voice sent a shiver up and down her spine. “Are you trying to kill me? Because there are simpler ways to go about that.”_

_“Come here,” She said in what she hoped was a seductive voice and reached for him. He followed her command without hesitation. When he was close enough, she took hold of his hand and pulled herself up, pressing her body flush against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a searing kiss._

_As she kissed him, she moved one hand up, combing through his dark curls, and the other down his chest, moving under his shirt to graze her nails along the skin on his ribs and side. He trembled against her, groaning into her mouth as their tongues wrestled for dominance. His own hands, rested at the small of her back above the silk robe, slid down to squeeze the ample flesh of her derriere. The sound of her moan seemed to snap him back to his sense and he broke the kiss but didn’t move from her lips._

_“What are you doing, my love?” he murmured as their foreheads rested against each other._

_“I think its rather obvious,” she laughed._

_He moved his hands to cup her face and stared into her eye._

_“Humor me, and tell me what you’re thinking, hm?”_

_Sansa took his hand and lead him to the bed, before pushing him to sit. She locked eyes with him and slowly discarded the black. Jon’s eyes travel down her body and back up to her face, and he swallowed hard. She smirked and then straddled his lap. He wrapped his arms around her once more as she placed a small kiss in the corner of his mouth._

_“This is the last time we’ll be together for a while. I want it to be special. We won’t get to be together for our anniversary, so this is my gift to you. Its also your going away present.” She said and place another small kiss fully on his lips. “Something to remember me by.”_

_“I could never forget you, Sansa.” He said looking at her. She felt her chest constrict and it was as if her breath was stolen right out of her body._

_“I love you so much.” She whispered to him, “I’m ready, Jon. I want you to be my first. My only.”_

_He stared at her for long while, his dark eyes taking her in. He seemed to be considering her words. She felt bare, more exposed than she actually was in the lingerie she had bought specifically for him, for this purpose. He reached up to caress her cheek with his knuckles._

_“I love you too.” He pulled her forward and kissed her deeply. She used this opportunity to grind her heated core against his hardness, moaning at the sensation. She pushed herself even closer to him. Before she could do anything else, however, he released her and looked into her eyes once more. “That’s why I can’t do this.”_

_“What? No, Jon! I’m ready, I’m sure.”_

_“I know. I believe you. But I can’t Sans.”_

_“Why not?” In the back of her mind, she is aware that she sounded like she was whining and hoped it didn’t turn him off. But she really wanted this. “I want this to happen, I want to give this part of myself to you.”_

_“And you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that to me.” He whispered to her. “But this is **your** first time we’re talking about. It should be all about you. It shouldn’t be about me leaving. And that’s exactly what it is right now.”_

_“No, it’s about us.” She said, trying to convince him._

_“Because I’m leaving. And if something were to ever happen to us, you’d remember this as your first time and me being gone before the sun came up. I don’t want that for you.”_

_“No, I’ll remember this always as a special night between you and me.”_

_Jon sighed and leaned back onto the bed with her on top of him, before rolling them onto their sides, facing each other._

_“Then consider me. I want our first time to be…” He trailed off, thinking of the right words before continuing. “I want it to be more than what I can give you tonight. I want it to be all about you, and me making you happy, pleasing you. If we did it tonight, you’d have to sneak back into you room after. I’d wake up here without you, and we’d have to pretend that nothing happened. I want to wake up with you in my arms when we finally take that next step. I want to watch the first sunlight of the morning hit your hair and see the day come alive. I want to look into your beautiful eyes when they open and kiss you good morning. If we go through with it tonight, then I don’t get any of that. So please, darling. I hate saying no to you and you make it so damn hard. But let me be selfish in this. I need those things with you. Please.”_

_Sansa stared at him, her heart felt like it would explode in her chest at any moment. She closed her eyes and ducked her head into his chest._

_“It’s like you’re from some kind of fairytale.” She whispered into his chest._

_“Well you’ve always wanted to be a princess. You deserve fairytales and romance.” That made her giggle._

_“You’re right Jon. Gods! Now I feel so silly dressing like this and coming here to…to seduce you...” she still couldn’t meet his eyes._

_“What?! No, I love it! You don’t know how hard it was to say no to you. To you dress like this…” His eyes traveled down her body again. “You’re all my fantasies come to life.” He kissed her and pulled her closed._

_“Well… I can feel how hard it is...” She whispered shyly. He blushed in the darkness of the room._

_“Sansa, can I do something for you?” He asked after a moment, still looking at her._

_“What?” her wide eyes staring back at him._

_“Do you trust me?”_

_“Of course, I do” she answered with a loving smile._

_“Lay on your back” he instructed and stood. She did as he said._

_He took hold of her foot and place a kiss on the inside of her ankle. Then he placed another by the knee, on the inside of her thigh, lowing himself between her legs._

_“What are you doing?” She gasped._

_“I just want to make you feel good.” He kissed her thigh again, the stubble on her cheek scratched and tickled her. “and show you that I won’t be forgetting you anytime soon. If you want me to stop, just tell me and I will.”_

_Sansa nodded._

_Jon continued to kiss, stroke and caress her thighs. He pulled back a bit, hooking his finger in her lacy underweared and giving them a slight tug. She lifted her hips to help him removed the skimpy garment. He made his way back down between her thigh, spreading them with his hands. She looked at him as he settled on her, moving her legs over his shoulders. He looked back up at her, as if to ask permission to go forward. She nodded slightly at him. Jon kissed her mound. There was a small strip of curly red hair, she had really prepared for this night. When his tongue made contact with her slit, her arched off the bed. She had never felt a sensation like this before._

_Sansa had touched herself before, and her and Jon had done somethings. But they were nothing compared to this. His tongue was on her and inside her, and she felt as if she could come apart at any second. His mouth moved up to take hold of her bundle of nerves, giving it a small suck before his tongue began to circle it._

_She released a deep moan and he pulled back with a smirk._

_“You have to be quiet, love.” He whispered, kissing her thigh again. “Can you be quiet for me?”_

_She nodded._

_“Good girl.”_

_He went back to her core, flicking his tongue on her clit and alternating between there and her slit. She knew she was getting wetter by the second and could hear it the noises he was making against her. She could feel the tension building in her lower abdomen and knew she would be undone soon. He moaned against her and looked up to see her watching him._

_“Oh,” she whispered breathlessly, “Oh Jon.”_

**

_December 24 th, 2016_

**3:00am**

Sansa woke with her hand in her wet heat and Jon’s name on her lips. She blinked and saw that she was still in her room. She removed her hand from her underwear, bringing her knees up to her chest, she sat up and hugged herself.

It felt so real, like she was back there with him on that night. The night he left for college.

It was her first truly sexual experience. And though that wasn’t the night she would give him her virginity, it was just as intimate. That night she had felt so loved and so adored by Jon.  And now her heart was pounding in her chest, just like it had all those years ago. Her body felt electrified. She could feel how wet she was from that dream.

She dreamt about Jon from time to time, not that she’d ever tell anyone. Sometimes it was sexual, sometimes it was just memories of them together and happy, and sometimes it was them reuniting.

But this felt so real, too real. Like she had just lived that night all over again.

And right now, the only thing she wanted was Jon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote a little smut...…(I feel like a big girl)  
> I don't have any experience smut writing, I was just trying it out(Might be the first and last for this story, I’m not very confident in my smut writing skills)
> 
> Tell me what you think.
> 
> Sorry for the grammar and spelling mistakes. I'll edit throughout the day. And as always, thank you for giving my little story the time of day!


	10. Truths and Half Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!
> 
> Jon has a conversation about leaving again. Arya and Sansa speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're starting to unravel things a bit, but it isn't everything.

* * *

December _24 th, 2016_

**Present**

**Jon**

 

He sat alone in darkness. Silence consumed the space. The flames in the fireplace had long burned themselves out, and now all that remained was the gentle scent of smoke and lumber the filled up the family room. All inhabitants of the home had long retired for the night, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Tonight was a disaster. _But what did you expect?_

Sansa with all her charm and grace, she had cut him to the core. Carved him up before expelling him from her life once more. He wasn’t surprised, not really. He had expected her anger, her wrath. He had anticipated the shouting, the harsh words. But she had done more than that. She, who knew him inside and out, knew how to hurt him the most, had done just that. She had taken his plagues, his gaping holes which he had tried so hard to disguise and hide away from the world and had exposed them to all including himself. Sitting at the table he was left exposed.

After Catelyn all but pulled her away from the table, all had stared at him. Wide, shocked and pitying eyes stared into him. Jon drowned in their pity.

She spoke the truth, however. He was an orphan; his mother was long dead. And with her, his place in this family, in this home, in this world. Everything he had done since her death was just him trying to prove himself, prove his worth. He had tried to earn his place wherever he went, never truly belonging, but desperate to.

Ned had tried to comfort him, placing a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. But to Jon, it just felt heavy like a weight he couldn’t bear. Margaery only stared at him and Rickon held his head down. Arya was quick to utter a “that’s not true, Jon. She doesn’t mean that”. But he could barely hear her. Robb could hold his gaze and chose to focus on the glass of scotch in his hand.

It was too much, so he excused himself. Or at least he thought he did. Everything about dinner was now a blur, fuzzy bits and pieces all focused around Sansa and her smile and her words. The look in her eyes, as though she felt some kind of pleasure in hurting him, making him feel unwelcomed.

If that was what she wanted, he could save her the trouble. Jon felt unwelcomed everyday of his life since he’s left Winterfell five years ago. He didn’t look like his family. Rhaeger’s family really. Carrying all his mother’s very Northern look, he stuck out from the Targaryens like a sore thumb. He didn’t have the golden/silvery locks, nor the lilac/indigo/amethyst eyes. Rhaenys had dark hair, but it matched her Martell heritage. Aegon’s eye looked dark, but in the light the shone bright purple. Jon was not one of them.

In King’s Landing, he had used his oddness like an armor. He had coated himself in it and it could no longer be used to hurt him, much like one of his mentors, Tyrion Lannister had told him to do. In meetings, boardroom, press conferences, no one knew what to expect from this seemingly pretender. And Jon used this to his advantage every time.

But here, his defenses were lowered. He hadn’t expected to need to protect himself from this reality. And now he was wounded.

So, he sat here, in the family room, bathed in darkness. The bags he had brought up to his room only hours ago were now by his side once more. He was preparing to leave, this time for good. Pen and paper in hand, he was trying to sum up all the words that could express all that he felt and thought. The guilt and shame. The anger and regret. The depth of sadness that washed over him every moment of every day. But the only words that he could write were _‘Arya was wrong’_ , and _‘I’m sorry’_.

Jon was aware that leaving again, running actually, did make him a coward. But was it any more so than the first time around? And what good could come from him staying. Sansa wouldn’t talk to him, not in an honest way where he could begin to try and explain himself. Robb could barely look at him without lashing out. Ned and Cat would understand that now he meant to stay away to keep the peace. _You’re lying to yourself_ , the voice in his head whispers. And he was. He was leaving because it was the easy way out.

But Jon was tired, so tired and so lonely. He didn’t want to fight with those he loved most. He wished that he hadn’t forfeit his home years ago. He wished he hadn’t let go of his love. He wished…

“Jon,” a voiced called out. “Is that you?”

Jon saw a tell silhouette of a lanky man walking to him from the foyer. When the figure stepped into the moonlight shining through the front window, Jon immediately rose to his feet.

“Bran!” He whispered, conscious of the late hour and those sleeping, even though the house was massive. “Seven hells! You’re taller than Robb now!”

“I know” Bran said with a boyish smile. “He hates it.”

After they embraced, Bran looked Jon over with concerned eyes before glancing down at his bags and the note pad left on the sofa.

“What are you doing Jon?” He asked pointedly.

“I’m… I…I can’t stay, Bran. There’s no place for me.”

“What are you talking about? Your room is upstairs. I know mom would have made it up as soon as she saw you.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Jon said solemnly.

“I know what you mean. But you’re wrong.” Bran’s eyes were boring into Jon’s. “Rickon called. He told be about what happened. I had a feeling you’d try something like this.”

“You mean you had a feeling that I’d be the coward that I am?” Jon joked. But Bran only stared at him.

“Being afraid and being a coward aren’t the same thing, Jon. I had a feeling that you’d think it’d be easier for everyone if you weren’t here.”

“Wouldn’t it though?” Jon asked. “Robb is so angry. And Sansa, she hates me. I don’t know what to do Bran. Other than to leave.”

“Sansa doesn’t hate you.” Jon scoffed at him, but Bran continued. “She’s angry, and hurt, and sad, and lonely. All these negative emotions are just bottled up inside her. It’s a lot like a glass bottle, actually. Swirling around, bouncing off the sides. We can all see what’s going on inside, but no one can do anything about it because the bottle is closed. Sansa is closed off to all of us. She doesn’t talk to us, not really. Not even to mom. But I suppose Robb and Arya contributed to that.”

“What do you mean?” Jon questioned. They both took a seat on the sofa.

“You say Robb is angry, Sansa is too. But so is Arya, though I doubt she can really bring herself to confront you head on about it. Even I was angry at you.” Bran paused and gave him a meaningful look. “You just left us. We’re your family and you just walked away and none of us really understand why. But eventually, I reasoned that you would either return to tell us or it wouldn’t really matter at all. So, I forgave you.” He said with a small smile. “And now you’re here. It wasn’t so easy with the others. Rick was nine when you left, too young to really understand about decisions, choices and consequences. He was just sad until he moved on. But Arya started to lash out at Sansa. In front of mom and dad, Arya kept it as civil as she could, which is to say they usually ended up in shouting matches. But when we were alone, Arya was down right nasty to Sansa. And Sansa could bite back as times, but mostly she just took it and pretended it didn’t hurt. Eventually she moved closer to the Winterfell Uni campus and then to her own place in White Harbor after.”

“What about Robb? Didn’t he try to stop them? Keep Arya in line?” Jon asked as swarm of emotions fell to the pit of his stomach.

“That’s the thing.” Bran pointed out. “Robb just kind of let it happen.”

“No, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let Arya go on like that.”

“But he did. And she didn’t listen to me. It seemed like Arya said the things that Robb felt but couldn’t bring himself to say. Now Sansa only comes home for the holidays. Did Arya tell you what she said to Sansa on Thanksgiving?”

But Jon remained silent.

“I didn’t think that she would. It’d disappoint you, after all.”

“What was it?”

“Ask her yourself. Make her tell you.” Bran instructed. “Anyways, you think Robb is angry with you. But really, he’s just angry at himself. For what he let happen with all of us. Angry and filled with guilt, just like you.” Jon looked away as Bran said that.

It was a long while before either of them spoke again.

“How can me staying help anyone?” Jon asked, almost to himself.

“How can leaving fix anything? Do you think Robb will forgive himself after you’re gone? Or that Arya will fully face herself? Do you think Sansa will let go of the hurt you caused? After all this time and still not having a reason to? Don’t be stupid, Jon.” Bran spoke like a man much older than his eighteen years, despite his last jab.

Jon sighed. It felt as though the weight that had rested un his shoulders since receiving Arya’s letter had just double in the short space of time he had been speaking to Bran. Any illusions he may have had of everyone he cared for simply moving on with their lives after he left were now broken.

“She writes about you.” Jon looked up as bran began speaking again, confusion shone clearly on his face. Bran continued. “Sansa. Have you read her books? There all about you.”

“I have read them. But you’re mistaken, they aren’t about me”

“They are. Not overtly. But in the subtext. They’re all about lovers who don’t ever get a happy ending. Its you, Jon. They’re all about you and her. She still loves you.”

“You’re wrong, Bran. You didn’t see her tonight. She was...”

“Angry? Yes, but I told you that. You already knew that. That doesn’t change anything though. Rick told me what she said. She’s trying to hurt you like how she’s hurt. That’s simple enough, I’m sure you can understand that.”

“I think that’s wishful thinking,” Jon stated.

“Is it truly so wrong to be wishful, Jon?” Bran asked in that faraway voice of his. “Why did you leave?”

Jon sighed once more. _Will you be taking Stark handouts for the rest of your life, Jaehaerys? I didn’t take you for a charity case._ The memory flickered before his eye’s quickly before he could stop it. He looked back at Bran who was acutely observing him.

“I didn’t have a choice-”

“Stop.” Bran said with a finality he didn’t possess throughout this conversation. “I didn’t tell you all this so that you can slump back into old excuses. I truly believe you being here can make things better for everyone in our family. But it won’t happen if you aren’t honest. So, start with me and tell me the truth. There’s always a choice.”

“You’re right,” Jon took a deep breath before carrying on, “Do you remember when Robb and I transferred from Queen’s Crown to Winterfell Uni? After I started classes, I got a bill from QC for an incomplete program. It was for about the full four years tuition.”

“Why?” Bran asked.

“The letter accompanying the bill said I broken a contract with QC by transferring before completing the degree there.”

“Did Robb get a bill to?”

“No, but when I called and brought that up, they said that different majors came with different transfer restrictions. To transfer all my credits, I’d have to pay the debt. Either that or start all over. It would have been two years wasted. And the money mom left me was practically gone by then.” He said.

“Did you talk to Dad?? He would have helped you no matter what!” Bran insisted.

“I did. And we had worked out a payment plan with QC. I took a TA job off his recommendation and everything was fine, for a year. Then I got another bill. A failure to pay in full. And I found out that QC never actually released my credits and was now charging me almost double. It was close to half a million.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Bran said. He’d started college quite early compared to his peers. At the age of 15 at Winterfell U and had never heard of anyone having such issues when transferring in like Robb and Jon did.

“I know. The semester was starting, and I was supposed to graduate the next year. But none of that could happen. Ned couldn’t do anything, and I couldn’t accept that kind of money from him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I couldn’t, Bran.” Jon said, anger seeping into his voice.

“Did you ask?” Bran questioned. But he was met with stony silence. “So, you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t.” Jon said again.

“Okay.” Bran said quietly.

“Then Rhaegar called. I ended up telling him about my situation and he said he could help. But he had terms. Terms that I met.”

“By going to work for him in King’s Landing.” Bran stated matter-of-factly.

Once again, Jon didn’t reply. But he didn’t need to. So, Bran spoke.

“It’s kind of hypocritical, don’t you think?” he asked Jon.

“What is?”

“That you’d accept Rhaegar’s money, but not Dad’s.”

“I worked for everything Rhaegar gave. I earned it.” Jon grounded out. _What about Sansa?_ Another memory was trying to resurface, but Jon pushed it back. He couldn’t think of that, not now.

“And you couldn’t do that here?” Bran looked at him, but Jon looked away and stayed quiet. Bran stood and began to leave the room. When he reached the entryway, he stopped and turned back to face Jon.

“I think everyone deserves to know the truth. And I think you should stay and be the one to tell them. But its your choice, Jon. It’s always been your choice.” And with that Bran headed to the staircase and up to his room, leaving Jon alone with his thoughts and plagued memories.

The grandfather clock in the foyer struck and chimed 4 times.

**

**Arya**

It was very unusual for her to be up at this hour, especially on the holidays. The digital clock on the stove read 6:17am. Normally, she wouldn’t be up until well past noon. But last night’s event had kept her awake through the night and she couldn’t try to sleep after the sun rose.

So here was Arya, preparing a cup of hot chocolate before even her mother made it downstairs. She was trying to soothe herself. The first night with Jon back hadn’t gone the way she had hoped but, but when she thought back on it, Arya wasn’t sure how exactly how she had hoped it would go. _Just not like that_ , she thought to herself.

It was her fault though. She had sent the letter to Jon and she hadn’t told anyone. And now everyone was angry at him, but they should all be angry at her. She always did have a talent for making things worse. _Way to go, Arya Underfoot_.

As she sat at the counter, wallowing in self-pity, she didn’t hear when someone else entered the kitchen. The sounds of a cabinet closing brought her back to reality, and when she looked up it was Sansa she saw with a mug in her hand.

“Good morning,” Sansa said to her in an emotionless tone.

“Sansa...”

Sansa continued moving about the kitchen, preparing herself a cup of green tea with lemon. Arya watched her for a moment, before speaking again.

“Listen, Sansa. I need to talk to you.”

“Are you going to accost me for what happened last night? If so, then I really don’t want to hear it.” Sansa said.

“No, it’s not about that.” Arya said to her sister in a small voice. “I wanted to apologize.”

Sansa looked at her but didn’t say a thing as she continued with her preparations.

“For thanksgiving. The things I said to you. I didn’t mean them, any of them. And I never told Jon you weren’t good enough for him. I only said because I was trying to hurt you.” She said in a small voice. She felt much younger than she was at this moment.

Sansa sighed, and place her mug down with much more force than was necessary. The clang rang through the kitchen, filling the space between the sisters.

“It did hurt me,” Sansa said without looking at Arya.

“I know! And I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it…” Arya cried.

“Okay.” Sansa said as she turned to pick up the kettle and pour out the hot water.

“There’s more.” Whispered Arya. When Sansa put the kettle down and began stirring her tea, Arya continued. “A few weeks ago, when you were talking to Robb in the other room…. I heard you.”

Sansa froze.

“I know that you were pregnant… With Jon’s baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any errors, and I'll be editing throughout the day. 
> 
> Tell me what you think, your comments motivate me and I'm so thankful to everyone who takes the time to give them. and I'm thank to everyone who even reads this mess.
> 
> I'm not sure about the next chapter as of yet, so no preveiws about it yet.


	11. Bittersweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Arya talk. Rickon makes plans

_December 24 th, 2016_

**Continued**

**Sansa**

She felt as though her head was plunged under water. Not in the calming sense that she liked. But rough and deafening. She was hyper aware and in a haze at the same time. This secret that pained her, that she’d had held on to for do long was now out. Robb knew and now Arya did too. Arya, who acted as though she hated the very air that filled Sansa’s lungs, know about her baby.

Sansa couldn’t deny it, Arya had heard what she said to Robb. She had confirmed it herself that once upon a time she was pregnant. This wasn’t a conversation she though she’d ever had to have with her sister.

“Wha… How? You had no right Arya!” Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears. Strangled, sad and angry all at once. But what she felt, all she felt was shame and embarrassment.

“I know!” Her sister pleaded to her. “I know Sansa. But I didn’t mean to overhear. I was on the stairs and you and Robb were talking, you didn’t hear me. But I heard you. And before I could go back, I heard. I wish…I didn’t mean to.”

“You _overheard_? You _didn’t mean to_?!” Sansa heard her voice grow shriller. “I find that hard to believe! You love knowing everyone’s secrets! You’re always tiptoeing about, spying on people. You love finding out their darkest secrets and throwing it back in their faces. That’s what you’ve always done.”

“Not this time. Sansa please. I…this isn’t something I wanted to hear. And I know it might not mean much to you now, but I’d never throw this in your face. Please, I’m so sorry.”

Sansa placed both of her hands flat on the counter in front of her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In through her nose and out through her mouth. She took another. And another. She was trying to calm herself, steady her racing heart. She was not prepared to have a conversation of this magnitude with anyone, least of all Arya. She hadn’t even finished the initial conversation with Robb.

Arya moved around the island and went to her sister’s side. She hesitated a moment before placing a comforting hand on her Sansa’s arm. Sansa flinched at the contact. She took several more deep breaths before meeting her sister’s gray eyes.

“So, you know. Now what?” Sansa asked quietly.

“Now nothing. I just wanted to you know. You don’t have to talk to me about it, I don’t expect you to. But I do want you to know that if you need to talk, about it or anything else, you can talk to me.”

“Are you serious, Arya?” Her gaze turned cold as she regarded Arya, “You think after one apology, everything is fine now? That I would feel like you are someone can open up to? What is this to you? Some kind of pity driven truce? ‘Oh, poor Sansa, poor broken Sansa. She can’t seem to keep anything, not a boyfriend and not a baby.’ I don’t need your pity.”

“Its not pity!” Arya exclaimed. “I don’t pity you.”

“So, guilt then?”

Arya remained silent.

“Guilt. What are you feeling guilty about, _little sister_?” Sansa asked with a dark whisper. “I can’t imagine that it would be about how you’ve treated me in the past years, no. It must be because it was Jon’s baby. Is that it? You don’t really care about what happened to me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn't it? Are you really going to pretend that we’d be having this conversation if Jon hadn’t come back?” Sansa continued her frigid stare.

“I have to be honest with you.” Ayra sighed. “It was easy for me to blame you for Jon leaving. I was seventeen with he left, and you know that he was the person I was closest to. When you started your relationship, it was hard not to feel left out. I was jealous of all the time he was spending with you. And I didn’t really understand relationships as it was.”

“I know all of that, Arya. As I’ve said many times, you aren’t exactly subtle.”

“When he left, he said it was beca-“

“Stop. I don’t want to hear what his reasons were.” Sansa stated firmly. But she didn’t move to walk away. This had been a long time coming and deep down, she felt as though she’d been waiting for Arya to explain herself, to explain how it was so easy for her to turn on her sister. Yes, they were not very close and it was obvious that her relationship with Jon was difficult for her to understand. But there was a time, when Jon was around, that it seemed like they had finally understood and accepted each other. They had formed a bond and started confiding in one another from time to time.

That was all erased with Jon’s departure, gone as though it had never been.

“Okay,” Arya whispered. “After… I was lonely, and sad. And you were distant and just...I didn’t understand, Sansa. It didn’t seem like you felt what I felt, what we all felt. And I had heard you tell him to never come back. I knew that the rest of us wanted him back. But you were different. Then you started going out and partying. And you acted like you were over him, like after a few months he was nothing to you and I resented you for it.  It was like you didn’t care...!”

“I was going through hell, Arya!” Sansa all but screamed. “I’m sorry I didn’t share my pain with you, but that gave you no right-!”

“I know that now! Only now. It wasn’t right, and I know that now.” Arya replied lamely. “But then, back then blaming you became the easiest way to deal with what I was feeling. I was a selfish kid. And it didn’t matter what mom and dad said to me. I didn’t understand, and I didn’t want to understand.”

That sparked Sansa’s interest. Her eyes flew to Arya’s face and she regarded her for a long moment.  She had always assumed her parent just let everything happen, choosing to allow her siblings and herself to deal with their own issues. It was always very important to them to never take sides, especially after they had reached their teenage years. If they argued or fought with each other, both sides were spoken to or both parties were punished. That became even more apparent when Jon and herself began their relationship, her parents had said just as much. They would not play favorites. But then again, their biggest disputes at the time was who needed to clean and who's turn it was to have the car. Petty things, easily fixed and let go of.

Sansa had taken every blow dealt out by Arya and all of Robb’s silence as her parents staying true to their ways, leaving all of them to just work it out amongst themselves and ignoring her pain. She hadn’t even thought that they’d spoken to Arya about her behavior. _Had they talked to Robb as well?_ She wondered to herself.

“What did mom and dad say to you?”

For the first time since they had began talking this morning, Arya looked reluctant to go on. She inhaled slowly, as if building her courage brick by brick, then exhaled and stared down at the floor. Sansa thought that she would say no more.

“Dad… he had threat to have me removed from the national team if I didn’t stop. He said that perhaps I was too old to punish under his roof, but his reach was far. That only made me angrier. Mom told me, many times, that you were hurting in your own way. She cried once, I’ve never seen mom cry like that. Not since aunt Lyanna’s funeral. But that hadn’t really mattered then. I started college at up at Karhold and we weren’t around each other much.”

“Oh.” That was all Sansa could say before Arya spoke again.

“Mom said you didn’t talk to her anymore. I thought you were just being selfish.” She said in a low voice.

Sansa didn’t respond. She looked down at her cup of tea, noting that it had gone cold. She sighed and poured it out into the sinks. She reached for the kettle once more, filled it and set it alight. Arya remained silent, watching her.

“You think the worst of me at every turn. I know that we were not very close when we were children. But did you hate me back then? Why is it so easy to turn on me? What did I do to you??” Sansa’s voice grew demanding.

“I never hated you!” Arya said quickly, turning to face Sansa. “We were just so different. I don’t think I ever really understood you, but you didn’t understand me either. You always just fit right in at school. Teachers loved you. And they expected me to be like you. Everyone expected me to be perfect like you and I wasn’t, I couldn’t be. I felt like I could never reach the bar that you set so high!”

“I was never perfect, Arya.”

“But you did act like you were. You would walk into a room and everyone would fall over themselves just to fry to be your friend. It took me years to forge real friendships. And Jon was my brother and my friend.”

“You think everyone that was nice to me wanted to be my friend?” Sansa asked, bewildered. “We are Starks. The Starks of Winterfell. They wanted to use me. They wanted to get in good with our family. And I was polite, nothing more. I didn’t take Jon from you.”

“It didn’t feel that way. It felt like he chose you over me and I didn’t get it. You weren’t even close when we were young.”

“Then why aren’t you angry with him? Why was it me?” Sansa heard her voice come out in a sad whisper.

“I…I was, I mean I think I still am. I don’t know, Sansa. I’m not good with feelings. I don’t like to sit and analyze why I’m feeling what I’m feeling.”

“What were you trying to tell me last night?” Sansa questioned, her tone unchanging.

“What?”

“Last night while Jon and I were…speaking, you were trying to say something to me. He told you it was okay. What was it?” She watched as Arya began to fidget.

“I was going to tell you that I’m the reason he’s back. Listen,” she paused, seeming to gather her words before continuing. “Before thanksgiving, I never thought about things as ‘Jon staying away’. It was always ‘Sansa keeping Jon away’. I know how fucked that sounds and I’m sorry. But that’s the truth. So, after we had our blowout, I got to thinking, and I needed answers. From him, about why he really hasn’t been home. I wrote a letter to him that night, and I gave him an ultimatum; either come home for Christmas or don’t bother coming back at all. And he came.”

“So, he’s back for you.” Sansa whispered to herself as she took her eyes off her sister and stared into space. There was a terrible feeling spiraling in the pit of her stomach. It started to rise and settle in her chest, around her heart. She knew this feeling well, she had known many shades of it in the past few years. It was oppressive when Jon had told her he wouldn’t be returning from King’s Landing on that last night. It was sharp and wrenching when she had woken to her sheets covered in blood, knowledge that her child was gone undoubtable and with it, the hope that had grew each day within her. It was dull and hazy when she was informed that she was placed on academic probation, being that she was already very numb. And now it was a firm ache, knowing that Jon had only returned because Arya left him no other choice. Disappointment.

 _Did you think he’d come back for you? Is that what you wanted_? She questioned herself, but the answer was already clear.

She blinked to rid herself of those thoughts, and tear slid down her face.

“Sansa.” Her sister’s voiced her back to reality, more tears began falling freely. “You’re crying. What is it?”

“Oh?” Sansa said, wiping her hand across her face. “Nothing, its nothing. I’m going back to bed. I’ll talk to you later.”

She left the kitchen as the kettle started to whistle.

**

**Margaery**

Breakfast went on without a hitch. Though the older Stark children were noticeably quiet, the space was filled with the light chatter and easy jokes between Bran and Rickon, with a little input here and there from Robb, Jon and Arya. Sansa didn’t speak, she barely looked up for her French toast. Not that she was eating, so much as moving it around her plate.

Catelyn looked tense and tired. Her eyes would dart around the table before returning to her plate. It was as if she expected the table to spontaneously combust at any moment and she needed to be ready to fight the flames.

Eddard looked just as tired but was a bit more relaxed than his wife. If Margaery had to guess, she’d say that he had spent the night up comforting the lady of the manor.

Robb was tense beside her, but he did try to seem at ease for Rick, Cat and Bran. But Bran’s eyes held a knowing look, he didn’t need the pretense nor was it fooling him.

None of them looked to have had a good night’s sleep.

“You guys!” Rickon suddenly gasped. “You know what we can do?? Snowball fight!!” He looked around the table excitedly.

They all just looked at each other and then at him.

“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun! We haven’t done that in years! Plus, we’re all here! And we have Marg.” He said and smiled at her. She threw a wink back at him and his sweat wild heart.

“But we all couldn’t play,” Arya said uncharacteristically. “The teams wouldn’t be even.”

It was a lame excuse, but Sansa nodded along.

“Well, I’m sure Theon will be by soon. Then it’ll be fair! Come guys please!” he pleaded, batting those baby-blues at everyone around the table. “We’re never all together. And Jon’s here. We have to!”

In that moment he seemed much like the baby of the family rather than a fourteen-year-old in the tenth grade. His siblings, Jon included, all glance around to table. All looked very uncertain about to say. Jon cleared his throat.

“Tell you what, buddy. We all just had a pretty big breakfast. So why don’t we wait till Theon comes and we’ll see who’s up to play before lunch? Hm?”

“Sounds like someone’s getting old,” Rickon teased. “Maybe you’re just afraid you and Robb won’t be able to keep up with me!”

“Hey! I resent that! I can still run circles around you, baby bro!” Robb sent a playful glare his way.

“You’re gonna have to prove that! On the battle field!” Rickon laughed. “Bran and I could take you!”

Robb and Jon looked at one another across the table, seemingly having a silent discussion. After a moment, they both smiled.

“Alright! You’re on. When Theon gets here, before lunch. We’ll see what you’ve got!” Robb declared.

“Are we all playing?” Arya asked, looking to Sansa. Rickon sent his biggest pout in his eldest sister’s direction. After several seconds of staring her down, she sighed.

“Fine.” Sansa said. Rickon whooped, and Robb and Arya smile. Jon looked at her for a brief moment before averting his eyes.

“I’m in too,” Margaery said with a pretty smile.

**

After breakfast, Catelyn, who was visibly more relax than when the meal had started, happily busied herself with clearing the table and tidying up the kitchen.  Sansa and Margaery had offered to help, but Catelyn quickly dismissed them.

Sansa had gone up to her room, saying she wanted to rest before the games begun. Margaery had chosen to remain downstairs. Everyone else had retreated to their own corners.

Margaery had curled up by the fireplace in the den, nose buried in a book when she heard someone coming into the room. She looked to see it was Jon Snow, he seemed a little surprised to find her here.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude.” He said, backing out of the den.

“You aren’t intruding.” Margaery stated. “It is your home, too.”

He stopped and looked at her.

“I suppose so.” He said. “I uh...I apologize for what happened at dinner last night. I know you don’t know me well, I hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression”

“Oh?” Margaery rose an elegantly sculpted eyebrow at him. “I feel like I know you already, though.”

“Really?” Jon asked, his shock visible.

“Yes. _He who must not be named_.” She said with a humorless laugh. “That’s you.”

“I’m the dark lord?” he caught the reference.

“Aren’t you? You step into a room and chaos ensues. Though, it was better this morning I suppose.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you with my presence.” He said, “You’re a Tyrell, right?”

She nodded.

“I worked on a deal with your brother, Willas. Good man. He spoke very highly of you. The rose of High Garden.”

“Your family speaks very highly of you too.” She said to him pointedly. He moved to excuse himself from the room once more. Margaery stopped him. “May I ask you a question?”

“Ah, sure.”

“What are your intentions?”

“What?”

“Your intentions. Here. What are you trying to accomplish?” Margaery questioned.

But Jon did not answer her. After a moment she spoke again.

“I suggest you try to figure that out, before you do anything else. I care a very much about the people this family. And as I’m sure you know; a rose does have its thorns.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I was a little heavy handed with this chapter. Tell me what you think.  
> I'm sorry for all errors, and I will be editing.
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> Flashback in the next chapter.


	12. Needs and Wants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb and Jon talk after the snowball fight. And then some other things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the kid ain't update in a while...….. I'm sorry. It was a combination of writer's block and things getting crazy at work for a while. But its a snow day(yay). And I wasn't as tired as I usually am. BTW, there's a cliffhanger, don't hate me.

December _24 th, 2016_

**Continued**

**Robb**

The Snow had been coming down by the foot all night and into the morning. Now it swirled around gently in the air before landing, adding to the thick blanket that accumulated in the last few days. It was a true to life winter wonderland. Robb’s heart ached with the memories that he shared with his sibling, all of them.

He remembered he and Jon making snow-knights since the time they could walk, teaching Sansa how to ice-skate on the frozen lake way off to the edge of the property, then Arya when she had taken up hockey for a year. Bran and Rick were always on the look out for the tree to build a tree-house in, they could never agree though, so they’ve never built one.

It had been a long time since they were all together and happy. Looking around now, one could hardly tell. They were busy turning the snow mounds created by the blowers clearing the walk paths into makeshift forts. He would have to show Margaery how to roll proper snowball, hers kept falling apart. Robb smiled to himself.

Arya and Sansa were well into making their stockpile on either side, they were pros at this point. Theon had arrived not too long ago and was catching up with Jon, or at least his version of catching up. Jon was scowling at him while Theon was laughing at his own joke. After several minutes of preparations, the game began.

On one side: Jon, Arya, Margaery and himself. On the other: Sansa, Rickon, Bran and Theon. Bran’s height gave them an advantage, he was able to beam snowballs far over the forts.  Rickon and Theon pelted them wildly and without end. On his side, Margaery couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn and Arya would halt her assault to teasingly berate her with a “you throw like a girl,” to which Margaery would respond “I am a girl!”

Arya: “Then what the bloody hell am I?”

Margaery: “A snow beast!”

And so on.

When he made eye contact with Jon, they both laughed at their antics before signaling to each other to take the flanks. It was supposed to be just like old time. But this time Bran and Rickon weren’t little anymore and it took a while before they could get close. Sansa’s skill played a role too. With her perfect timing and killer aim, each time Robb tried to advance she was able to push him back with a well-placed hit to the face.

When they made it to the other side, it was an all-out melee. Snowballs flying in every direction. And as all things in Stark tradition. It got a little violent. There was pushing and shoving, tackling and rolling. And a lot of laughing. It was like they were kids again.

Jon and Robb picked up Rickon and dumped him into a big pile, while he whined about how they weren’t playing fair. The snow was melting in everyone’s hair and Margaery had started to shiver. They had been at it for more than two hours.

Sansa pulled her best friend up with a pretty smile on her face and the two begin to walk back toward the manor. Bran grabbed Rickon and hauled him up, muttering something about babies playing war, before heading in the same direction. Theon said loudly that he’d need some of Cat’s famous stew to warm and up and Arya followed behind them. Only him and Jon remained standing there. As Robb glanced up at the house, he saw Sansa staring back at them before she entered last.

He looked back at Jon, who had a small grin on his face as he stared up at the ever-falling snow.

“That was fun.” Robb said.

“Yea, I missed this,” Jon replied quietly. He started to move to the pathway that lead to the back door.

“Hey” Robb called to him. “Let’s take a walk before going in.”

Jon looked at him for a moment before nodding and walking back down the path, this time heading the way that lead to the wooded area on the property that they had all named ‘The Wolf’s Wood’ when they were younger and would tell ghost stories to frighten each other.

The silence stretched between as they walked, both were deep in thought. Robb knew what he wanted to say, he just didn’t know how to say it. He took several glances at the man next to him, unable to read what was on his mind. There was a time when he could read Jon like an open book. Now… _he’s almost a stranger to me..._

Robb shook his head at that thought. No, this was still Jon. Sure, there was time, distance and baggage between them. But he was _still_ Jon, his first and best friend in the world. His brother. He just had to express everything and hope that Jon would do the same.

“So.” He began.

“So…” Jon answered, “This was fun.”

“I said that.” Robb sighed. “Listen, I don’t want to be angry with you. But I am.”

“I know. I know you’re angry. It’s because I left and- “

“No.” Robb replied. “That’s not why. I thought it was but it’s not. I’ve been thinking. If you wanted to go start a new life in the South, if you wanted to get to know the other side of your family, if you wanted that career there, I would have been happy for you. I would have supported you.”

“You would have?” Jon question, his brows rising.

“Of course, I want you to be happy. But you’ve never mentioned wanting those things. You’ve never, in our entire lives said anything remotely related to King’s Landing or your father-“

“Rhaegar.” Jon corrected in a cold tone.

“Exactly!” Robb exclaimed. “You don’t even acknowledge him as your father. And suddenly out of nowhere, you’re moving in with him and wife and kids. You’re working for him. I feel like you completely shut me out. You shut us out, but you wanted us to understand? There was nothing to understand.”

Jon was quiet for moment, before he said, “Well if it makes you feel better, I only stayed with them for about two months before getting my own place.” A joke, of some kind.

“Don’t.”

“Robb, it is more complicated than that. I didn’t just decide out of nowhere to go, I had no choice.”

“Oh, is it?” Robb asked in a nonchalant voice.

“Yes,” It was Jon’s turn to sigh. “Listen…”

He spoke and Robb listened intently. He spoke of the first bill from QC, the arrangement that was made after. The work he did in and out of class. The second bill. The conversation with Rhaegar and when he made the decision to take the offer. He spoke of how he wanted to come home but that he needed to see this through. All the while, Robb quietly took it all in. When Jon finished his tale, Robb remained silent for a moment before speaking.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

“It wasn’t your burden to bare.” Jon answered solemnly.

“Wasn’t my burden? Do you hear yourself? What are you? Some lone wolf in the long night?” Robb’s voice rising.

“It was my problem and I needed to figure it out on my own. And that’s what I did, or at least tried to do.”

“Why did you need to do it on your own? You could have asked dad for help. We’re family.” Robb stated firmly.

“I can’t keep running to uncle Ned every time I need bailing out. I’m not a Stark, I’m not his responsibility.” Jon said quietly.

“So, aunt Lyanna wasn’t his sister?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean? Because you aren’t making any sense!” Robb could feel himself getting angry and he tried to will it away.

“I mean, how long can uncle Ned or aunt Cat keep taking care of me? How long could I keep taking their generosity before becoming a charity case? My mother was able to build a career, make a life for her and I outside of the Stark family fortune. And I should be able to do that as well!”

“A _charity case_? Is that how you see yourself in our family?” Robb question, “Aunt Lyanna was independent, true. But she took help when she needed it. We all do. Charity case? Where is that even coming from?” he demanded.

“Let just drop it, okay?” Jon sighed again. “You asked and I answered. That’s my reason.”

“Okay.” Robb said before adding, “So you did abandon us for greener pastures.”

Jon opened his mouth, ready to fiercely dispute the claim, but he saw the smile that was making its way onto Robb’s face. He shoved him, laughing. And Robb pushed him back. The laughed together as they came upon the lake that was frozen over at the edge of the woods. They stood there for a moment, staring at the picturesque scene before them, in a far more comfortable silence then when they had started their walk.

Robb looked down at where the land met the frosty lake and fidgeted for a moment before speaking again.

“There’s one more thing.” He said, before look back at Jon. “Sansa… before you left, you said you were doing it for her. How does that fit into everything?”

Jon took a deep breath and exhaled. For a while, Robb thought he wouldn’t get that answer.

“She deserves so much more that what I was, what I could offer. She deserves someone that wouldn’t need to rely on her father in order be worthy of her. I wasn’t enough and I knew that. I still know it now.”

Robb turned those word over in his head. He knew that Jon loved Sansa deeply, and that she loved him back. He saw the change in her when Jon left. A part of him believes that she loves him now. And after hearing how Jon just spoke of her, he’s sure that he still feels that same way about her. But the weight of knowing what had transpired in Jon’s absence held him back. He didn’t even know the fully story himself, the little he did know was not his to share.

“Don’t you think she has the right to choose for herself what she wants in her life? If she knew the truth, then…” He trailed off. _If you both knew the truth…_

They stood there a while longer before turning to go back the way they came.

 

**

**Sansa**

Dinner was far less dramatic than the night before. Everyone had conversed, joking about the day they’d had. Everyone except her and Jon. She had tried to sneak a few glances at him, but their eyes would meet almost every time and one of them would look away. She wasn’t sure what he was thinking. She wasn’t even sure what she was thinking for the most part.

Jon had been back for only two days, and it seemed as though someone had thrown her life into a tornado. Nothing made sense.

The whole day had left her feeling both energized and exhausted. The talk with Arya had drained her.  And then they had played, like when the were children. It was nice. And even though her and Jon hadn’t interacted directly, she could still feel him the entire time. It was like he was under her skin. It took all her focus for her to not follow his movements with her eyes.

Now she laid awake in bed, wide awake. Thinking and feeling and wanting. What did she want? Sleep. Sleep and Jon? Or maybe just Jon?

They needed to talk, needed a civilized conversation. Maybe then she would be able to get him out of her system. But for now, she needed to sleep. No good would come lying awake all night.

Sansa pulled back the blanket she didn’t need and fished through her top drawer to find pair of socks to cover her feet. Dressed only in a large sleeping shirt she had thrown on after her shower with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, she made her way down to the den. She needed a drink.

When she entered the den, she went straight for the credenza that held her father’s scotch. No glass of wine, or two, or three do the trick. She needed something strong. With the bottle in hand, Sansa went int to the kitchen and turned on the light above the stove. The room remained mostly dark with only the one area illuminated.

She removed a glass from the cabinet and poured herself a shot before quickly throwing it back. She poured another and repeated the action. And then a third time, after which she filled her glass half way up and began a slow sip while leaning her forward on the counter.

As she sipped, she took in all the small sounds this ancient structure made. It was calming. Soon she was deep in thought, and all sounds were gone.

She didn’t hear the soft steps approaching the room she occupied. When she looked up, she was face to face with the cause of her unrest.

Jon stood in the doorway, looking. The light over the stove didn’t quick reach eye face but she knew it was him, she’d recognized him anywhere. He was wearing only a pair of dark grey pajama pants.

Maybe it was the alcohol she had quickly consumed, but she eyed him openly now. She took note of the changes to his physique. His chest was broader, his arms her larger. His abs were much more defined. He stood taller too. One could say that when he had left, he was a boy. But here standing in front of her was a man.

He entered the kitchen slowly, the way you would approach a wounded animal. He probably thought she’d lash out at him once more. But that was the furthest thing from her mind.

“Sorry,” He said. “didn’t know anyone was still up. I just wanted a drink.”

His eyes travelled down to her legs and then up her barely covered thighs before settling on her face once more. She was probably flush at this point.

Without giving it a second thought, she slid the still opened bottle of scotch across the counter top over to him.

“Have one, then. I’m way a head of you.” Sansa said with a giggle.

“You drink this?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Things change, but you know that. Cheers.”

Jon studied her and she felt ever more undressed than she was. He looked back at the bottle before walking over the cabinet to get a glass for himself. He poured about three fingers and drank it back. He poured another, then raised the glass to her.

“Cheers.” He said and down the liquid again. She smiled at him.

Sansa could feel the liquor taking effect now. There was that familiar tingling sensation in her fingers and her face. Her thoughts were becoming very singular.

“So..” they both said at once. Sansa giggled and Jon let out a low chuckle.

“Listen Sansa,” He started again. “I’m sorry for everything… Everything.”

“Not now, Jon. We’ll talk, but just not now.” She said as she took another sip. He nodded.

“Tell me about King’s Landing, do you like it there?” Sansa asked.

“No.” Jon said with a laugh.

They continued their light conversation filled with giggles and laughs and bad jokes that were all funnier now that they were on their way to inebriation. Jon had come around to the same side of the island as her and they had steadily moved closer to each other as time passed. They were so close now, that when they laughed again at something or another, Sansa had effortlessly placed her hand against his chest to playfully push him away. He didn’t budge.

Jon stared down at where her hand was now slowly grazing its way down to his abdomen. When he looked up, their eyes locked.

There was no telling who moved first. One moment they were staring at each other, the next they were crashing into each other with such passion. Their lips met in a searing kiss, and Sansa instinctively tilted her head to the side allowing Jon to deepen the moment. His tongue ran across her bottom lip, and she granted him access. They were locked in a battle for dominance and they didn’t believe know who would come out on top.

Their bodies were pressed together. Jon’s hands moved from her face, down her sides and to the small of her back, pulling her even closer. The heat from his body radiated through her form, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and carded her hand through hair. He shivered against her and she moan into his mouth.

Jon’s hands moved lower down her back to cup her plump ass through the sleeping shirt, giving it a firm squeeze. Sansa could feel the slick wetness of her core begin to dampen her thighs. She could also feel him hardened against her through his pants. This is what she wanted.

He easily picked up her and sat her on the counter top, stepping into the space of her parted thighs. Keeping one hand on her thigh, he reached the other up into her long fiery locks to gently pull her head to the side. With this new access, licked a path up from her collarbone to her jawline before nipping, then sucking on a sensitive spot below her ear.  Sansa let out another throaty moan and scooted to the edge of the counter. She moved a hand down passed his ribs and clawed at his back, pulling him closer. She felt his cock, straining behind the fabric of his pants, make contact her wet pussy for the first time. She rolled her hips forward, desperate for some friction to relieve the ache.

Jon groaned against her skin. She knew that he had just realized she was in fact, without underwear at this moment. The only thing that separated them was a thin layer of cotton that was growing increasingly wet in one spot.

He pulled her garment up around her waist and she spread her thighs further apart. This was it. He pulled back and looked into her eye with blown pupils. She gazed back at him with an equally lust filled stare. He kissed her lips and it was a tender, heart-breakingly sweet thing.

He lowered his pants enough for his rigid member to spring free, the tip leaking with precum. He rubbed it against her clit and Sansa’s hips bucked forward to meet him.

“Oh Jon!” she cried out softly.

Then a gasp rang out into the kitchen followed by the sound of fast retreating footsteps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for all spelling and grammatical mistakes, and I will be editing throughout the day.  
> I really want to have this finished before April 14th, so I'm going to try and update more frequently.  
> No promises but wish me luck!  
> Also I would greatly appreciate any constructive critisism about this chapter, I'm not sure about the  
> way i wrote it.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	13. Who's there?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who saw Jon and Sansa?

_December 25 th, 2016_

**Present**

**Jon**

The moment was broken. At the gasp, he and Sansa both looked towards the doorway but in the darkness, no one could be seen. When she turned back to face him, he saw a brief hesitation. Uncertainty. If he chose to push forward, she would willingly tumble over the edge along with him.

But did he want her like this? In a tumbled haze driven by lust, and liquor with nothing but hurt, shame and unspoken words between them? He stared deep into her eyes, their breath still falling labored. Then the lust began to recede from her gaze. The moment was broken.

He stepped away from her and covered himself. Sansa peeled off the countertop, pulling her shirt back down.

“I’m sorry,” He murmured, unable to meet her eyes once more.

“It’s- it’s fine.” She said in a low voice. “I should be getting to bed now.”

With that, she quickly retreated from the kitchen, leaving him with the taste of her and Scotch on his lips.

He’s not sure how long stood there alone, but eventually he found himself back in his childhood bedroom, his mind still replaying what had acquired downstairs. It had felt so… _So right._ It was as though everything that was built up, everything that was keeping them apart had melted away. They were teenagers once more. Sneaking around their family’s home, stealing kisses in the dark. _I never should have left._

He’s had this thought before. Many times. Late at night, when there was no one around who he had to defend his choices to. When it was just him and his conscience.

Maybe if they hadn’t started their relationship so early in life. Maybe if they had stayed apart, followed their dream separately, then maybe now would be the start of them, and not just the broken bits left behind. It was a blessing and a curse to find one’s soulmate so young.

_Soulmate?_

But that’s what she felt like to him. What she still feels like to him. Like he had carved a piece of himself out and left it behind.

Now he laid still in bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling colder than he’s ever been.

The sound of vibration brought him out of his reverie. Without thinking, he picked up his cell and unlocked it. It immediately opened his Facebook inbox, opening the sender’s message. It was Val. _Shit._

‘Baby, I miss you. Don’t you miss me?’ the message read.

Jon locked his phone and went to put it back down on the bedside table, when it started to vibrate in his hand. She was calling. _Fucking read receipts._

She would only keep calling now that she knew he was up.

“Val.” He answered.

“Jon? I’s so glad you’re awake. Baby, I’ve been thinking about you, about us.” She said in what he supposed was a sensual tone, but it only annoyed him.

“There is no us, Val. I’ve told you that.” Jon stated with no emotion.

“You don’t mean that. We’ve always gone back and forth. And I’ve given you time to come to your senses. I want to see you.”

Jon sighed, his agitation growing.

“This isn’t like before. We aren’t going back.” He told her.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re good together, we’re good for each other.”

“More like I’m good for you, for your career.”

“What are you talking about? Its Christmas morning, and I’m supposed to meet your family. I still intend to come, Jon.” Her voice took on a peculiar tone, almost threatening.

“Look, I know you’ve had your eyes set on the ‘Targaryen Dynasty’ for a while. I know your game. I know you’ve used my name to help elevate yourself. And I’ve let it happen because I don’t particularly care. But now, its over. **_This_** is over. You can still go to Rhaegar’s house if you like, I’m not there.” He ended the call and blocked her number for good measure.

Val was something of a wannabe socialite. She had made her name by cozying up to some of King’s Landing’s elite. A few well place photos had given her a little buzz, but nothing solid. They had started as a one-night stand, but she was persistent. Jon had let her believe that she had her claws in him because being in some semblance of a relationship helped keep him off some of the eligible bachelor’s lists he’d often end up on. She wasn’t money-hungry, coming from a well-off family with some ties to the far north, not that she’d ever lived here. What she wanted and didn’t have was the right family name.

He let her believe that he would eventually give it her. How was she to know that he didn’t even want the name himself? That the name was the bane of his existence?

Before he put his phone back down, he saw that his sister, Rhaenys, had texted him earlier in the night. He made a mental note to call her when the sun was up, after acquiring a new phone. Changes needed to be made and he’d start with severing certain ties.

******

 

**Bran**

Something has happened. It was obvious. Bran could not say definitively that it was all the same thing, but definitively, his family was behaving strange.

Well, stranger than what was expected given the current circumstances.

His parents were fine, they seemed as happy as the day before. Happy that the family was coming back together, and hopeful that it will be a quick fix. _As if._

There was so much work that had to be done in order to put them back together as they had once been. But Bran was certain it could happen, if everyone was willing.

No, his parents were fine. Everyone else… was off.

Jon and Sansa seemed oddly close and distant at the same time. It was as if invisible walls were placed between them. They would look at each other openly without saying word but went to great lengths to make sure they didn’t interact at all.

Yesterday, they had been less tense with one another. If Bran were a betting man, which he most certainly is not, he’d bet that there were on the cusp of having that conversation that was significantly overdue. But something happened, something akin to a step forward and two back.

Robb was pensive, something clearly on his mind. He was noticeably, if only to Bran, quiet before breakfast. Could barely muster up a smile when receiving his gifts from Margaery. It was a watch, just like father’s, same maker and everything. Robb had had his eyes on his father’s watch since he was a boy, eager to walk in father’s shoes. But when presented with the object of his heart’s desire, it was as if he gotten some trinket from some gas station. _Definitively odd._

Strangely enough, Margaery didn’t seem to take any note of Robb’s lackluster reacting. Margaery, with all her insightfulness and intuition. Margaery, with years dedicated to behavioral psychology found nothing amiss with her fiancé and gave him only a small appreciative peck when she unboxed a golden pendent in the shape of a rose with emerald encrusted leaves as her present. She thanked him and returned her focus to the estranged couple. More specifically, Sansa. She was watching Sansa like a hawk. Waiting for something. _But what?_

Arya was jumpy. Bran would even venture as far as to say she seemed nervous about something. She chatted with Rickon and tried to engage Margaery in conversation even though she was very distracted with eyeing Sansa’s every move. Arya rambled when she’s nervous. And today it was like she couldn’t control herself. When she received her gift from their parents, and elegantly crafted epee, for fencing, she thanked them repeatedly, claiming multiple time that they shouldn’t have. She even uttered ‘I don’t deserve this’ before clamping her lips shut tightly and returning her attention to Rickon. Bran was the only one who heard. And even though seemed thick as thieves just yesterday, Arya didn’t speak one word to Jon all morning. She didn’t even look in his direction.

Rickon, however, was perhaps the strangest on this Christmas morning. His baby brother had always loved everything about Christmas and relished in being the baby of the family, therefore receive the most gifts every single year.  This year was no different in that regard. Rickon collected a few games along with a brand-new console. Sansa gifted him with a leather jacket he deemed as “badass”, it had a snarling wolf stitched onto the back and the embellishments on the front gave it a dangerous look and feel. What was odd was when he had risen to give his beloved sister a hug for the jacket he has yet to remove, Rickon flushed bright red when passing Jon and stepping into Sansa’s embrace. One could say that it was excitement over the present, except he didn’t meet her eyes once during the exchange. As they all sat around the table with breakfast being served, the baby of the family kept his eye solely on his plate, his ear still a scarlet red.  

When Arya asked him to pass the orange juice, Rickon spilled his own glass in the process. When Sansa asked for the plate of sausage, Rickon started to choke. It took three heavy slapped to the back from Robb to clearly his airway, and when Job asked him if he was alright, he ducked his head back down with a low “yep”.

_Very strange indeed._

Now the six of them, Jon, Robb, Margaery, Arya, Rickon and himself, sat in a thick silence after helping to clear away the remains of breakfast. Sansa and their mother were getting ready upstairs, they were heading into town, and Ned driven out not too long ago.

“So…?” Bran started.

All eyes shot towards him. It looked like they were about to started speaking all at once when the sound of Catelyn Stark’s boots hitting the marble floors in the hallway. It was really a comical sight to see all the mouths snap closed in unison.

As she entered the room with her purse slung on her should, Sansa was a few steps behind. Both were dressed in their winter finest. Sometimes it still shocked Bran how much his sister favored their mother. They could almost pass for sisters, but Catelyn’s eyes held that special kind of wisdom that only came with age.

“So we’re off to Torrhen’s Square. I have a few last-minute things to settle for the New Year’s Eve party and Sansa in going to stop by her publishers’. We should be back around 3.  Does anyone need anything?”

Jon stood up suddenly.

“Jon?” Catelyn questioned.

Jon looked from Cat to Sansa, before turning his gaze down to the floor.

“I uh-..I need to get a new phone.” He said as he started making his way to the front closet.

“What’s wrong with the one you came with?” Robb asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Too many people have the number.” Jon replied after getting his coat.

“You could just change the number.” Sansa said in a skeptical tone.

“I think a fresh start is best.” Jon said without looking at her.

“So, you’ll be coming with us then?” Catelyn smiled and encouraging smile.

“Ah…” He started with a quick glance in Sansa’s direction. “No, I’ll take my car. I don’t want to hold you up; I have a few other things to do in town as well.”

“We’ll leave together then, come on.” Cat said and began walking to the front door, when she suddenly stopped. Turning back to the occupants of the room, she said “Behave yourselves.” In her stern motherly voice.

All the Stark children scoffed, simultaneously. Whenever Catelyn Stark had to leave more than two of her children alone in the manor since Robb, Jon and Theon entered their teenage years, she always said the same thing. And the response was always the same as it was now.

“Yes, mom.” They all droned, Jon and Sansa included. Margaery giggled and Cat sent her a playful glare.

“That goes for you too, Future Stark.”

“Yes, mom.” Margaery answered with a slight chuckle.

Then the three walked out the door. Moments later two cars started and drove off.

Bran looked around the room again.

“So...?”

All eyes were back to Bran.

“Who’s going to start?” he asked.

“What do you mean? Start what?” Margaery asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“Something is clearly bothering every one of you. I think being direct is the best way to settling things. Oldest first?” Bran shifted his penetrating stare to Robb.

Robb sighed.

“I spoke with Jon and I don’t know.” He said.

“What did you speak about?” Margaery asked.

“Why he left. It was interesting to say the least. I think there’s more. Either he’s not saying, or he doesn’t know himself. I can’t read him anymore. It almost like I don’t know him anymore.”

“I spoke with him too about it.” Bran added. “I know he wants to make things right, he’s still Jon. But its not all on him. A lot of the issues that are present now happened after he left. We can’t pretend its Jon’s fault just because its easier that way.” He added, looking from Robb to Arya.

“I know, I know…” Robb said with a sigh. “Plus, there’s the Sansa thing.”

Arya and Margaery both looked sharply at Robb, but Arya spoke first.

“What Sansa thing?” She asked hesitantly.

“Oh, now you care about your sister? Only in regard to Jon though, right?” Margaery snipped at her.

Before Arya could respond, Bran put his hand up and said “Margaery, that isn’t helping right now.”

Margaery only glanced at him before returning her attention to Arya.

“I know. Listen, I talked to Sansa and I know I was a cunt to her. But that was before! I didn’t know..! I didn’t know anything…” Arya trailed off into a whisper. There was something she was clearly holding back. “I'm trying to make amends. But Jon doesn’t know how awful I was and I have to tell him. And I need to get Sansa to believe me.”

“That’s going to take time.” Bran said in a sage like voice.

Margaery narrowed her eyes further at Arya before looking at Robb, who’s stare remained firmly on the ground, then back at Arya. She looked like she was calculating something. What, bran didn’t know.

“Well, I said something to Jon.” She said quietly. They looked at her.

“What did you say?” Robb asked. She sighed.

“Basically, I told him that I’m going to let him hurt Sansa or anyone else in this family. It was along the lines of a warning.”

“Could have been a threat.” Arya said, staring daggers at Margaery.

“I didn’t threaten him. I just don’t ever want to see Sansa hurt the way the was hurting after he left.” She said. With a slight shake of her head, she continued, “But, she seems different now that he’s here, doesn’t she? I can’t put my fingers on it, but I think somethings going on with her and him.”

Rickon shifted in his seat but kept his head down. They all turned their attention to him and watched as his ears went bright red once more.

“What is it, Ricky?” Margaery asked softly.

“N-nothing! I didn’t see anything!” He practically shouted.

They all eyed each other before looking back at the youngest Stark.

“What did you see, Rick?” Robb asked with one eyebrow raised.

“I just told you! I didn’t see anything!” he said again, starting to fidget.

“Yea, and you’re about as convincing as the toupee Karstark wore to last year’s company picnic.” Arya said snidely, “Out with it.”

Rickon sighed and ducked his head down once more. His whole face was red now.

“Last night playing on my phone and it started to die but I couldn’t find my charger. I remembered that I left it in my bag downstairs. So, I went to get it.” He paused, his voice got lower to just above a whisper as he continued. “I got it and I was about to go back to my room, but I heard something in the kitchen. The lights were all of except the one over the stove so I couldn’t really see, but there were two people in there… and they were doing **_things_** …”

They all stared wide-eyed at him.

“I thought it was you two!” he added quickly, looking back and forth from Robb to Margaery. “And I was leaving quietly… But then I heard Sansa call out Jon’s name, and I made a run for it…”

They continued to stare until Arya broke the silence.

“What are you saying? That Jon and Sansa were hooking up in the kitchen last night?”

“I didn’t see exactly what they were doing, and I don’t want to imagine. But that is what it looked like...and what it sounded like...” He paused. “I think they might have heard me… I ran back to my bed, put on my headphones and tried to forget. I’m still trying to forget, which isn’t easy when they’re both around, staring at each other. It’s also not easy when my family makes me talk about it.” He said in a huff, folding his arms over his chest.

“This is good” Margaery said after a while.

“Not for my traumatized mind, it isn’t!” Rickon yelped.

“What’s good about it?” Arya questioned, confusion evident on her face.

“We can use this to get to the bottom of everything.” Margaery answered.

“How?” Robb asked after a while.

Margaery smirked.

“By meddling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm definitely not going to finish this story before the premiere.. lol  
> but I am going to continue no matter what. Sorry for the delay.  
> Also, I'm sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors. As always I will  
> be editing throughout the day. Tell me what you think and thank you all  
> for reading.
> 
> Next chapter will be a flashback, so heads-up!


	14. Wasted Days and Lonely Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big flashback chapter.
> 
> This is the day that Jon left five years ago. I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I love it. I hope you guys like it too. while reading, i want you guys to remember that they're all really young. Robb and Jon are 21, Sansa is 19 and Arya is 17. Arya is going to come off mean in her POV but she's an angry teenager. Sansa and Robb may seem a bit naive and Jon is in full tunnel-vision mode. They are making mistakes. But bare with them, and me! And I really LOVE Catelyn’s POV, I just love it...
> 
> So tell me what you think!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of the chapter is from a song that i heard years ago, Wasted days and Wasted night- By Freddy Fender...(lonely night sounded a bit better to me lol) give it a listen if you like.

**January 2, 2011**

 

_The day and night of.._

 

**Jon**

 

The feeling of dread had been building for weeks. He had made this decision so long ago. It was for the best, he assured himself. A necessary evil, if you will. But it didn’t make going through with it any easier.

 

It was like this option had been hanging over his head for years, ever since his mother died, really. It's always been there, unspoken and undeniable. He had tried his best, worked his hardest. Convinced himself that taking Rhaegar’s help was never a real possibility. But now he was out options.

 

The worst part is that he had already started to lie. Jon Snow was not a liar, didn’t deceive others to get his way. The truth could never be worse than getting caught in the lie to cover it all up. But it would seem that simply associating with the south and with Rhaegar was already bringing things out of himself that he didn’t like. He had lied to Sansa.

 

He hadn’t meant to, not really. But looking into her beautiful blue eyes, how could he tell her that he was going to be staying in King’s Landing for the foreseeable future? Her eyes, already pleading with him to not go through her mouth hadn’t spoken those words. Jon was never very good at saying no to her and he could already see her face crumbling in his mind’s eye when she had asked how long he’d be away.  A braver man, a smarter man would have gotten the initial blow out of the way, would have been honest from the moment he had decided…..

 

A smarter man would have spoken to his girlfriend before he made any decision that would impact their relationship. And this decision would be the end to them. But Jon knew if he spoke to her, she would tell him not to go and he wouldn’t. And he would be in the same dilemma that had lead him down this path to begin with. So he lied.

 

He told her that he was only going to meet and get to know that side of his family for three week. She believed him because she had no reason not to. It was stupid and hurtful and everytime she looked up at him with those big, beautiful, trusting eyes, Jon felt as though he was choking on bile and shame.

 

Jon had planned to come clean days ago, weeks even. But knowing that those were in fact their last days together, he couldn’t bring himself to ruin it. He had already resigned from his position at the garage and with the semester finished for the winter holiday, Jon  spent his days soaking up as much time with Sansa as he could. If he was coming off as needy or clingy each time he offered to run errands with her or accompany her on an outing that absolutely didn't require his presence, well she didn’t see fit to mention it. Sansa would only smile and give a sweet kiss, and he would immerse himself in her company, tight-lipped like the coward he was.

 

He had to do this, he tried to remind himself. It was the only way. The money he needed was too much to ask his dear aunt and uncle for, it was too much for him to barrow and no job an undergraduate student could obtain would pay this sum. He wouldn't become a charity case, he would earn everything he needed. This was to become the kind of man who was deserving of Sansa Stark. One who didn't owe everything he was to her father, his own family relation aside.

The irony was he was leaving her in order to get her.

 

Sometimes it didn’t make sense. Jon wanted to marry Sansa, wanted to be the man of her dreams. Someone that could take care of her and provide for her. He wanted to give her everything her pure heart desired. That meant he had to become more than what he was now. And if that meant having to make a deal with the devil, so to speak, then so be it. It was a risk, indeed. There was no guarantee that she’s ever take him back. But he couldn’t put her through the trials of a long distance relationship and he wouldn’t ask her to wait for him. If while he was gone, she met someone that made her happy..happier than she was with him, who was he to stand in her way? This was all for her, anyways.

 

But tonight was the night, his last night. He hadn’t meant to hold out on her this long and tonight he would break her heart and be gone before morning light.

 

******

 

**Robb**

 

Robb was not sure what his position was in this clusterfuck of a situation. His sister’s heart was on the line and his brother, cousin, best friend was the one doing the damage.

 

He had told Jon to come clean, begged him, urged him to let Sansa know the truth. The longer he waited, the worse it would be. But Jon only promised  that he would. And now, the night that he would leave, Sansa was none the wiser.

 

He didn't want to to break Jon’s confidence, but everyday he didn’t say anything he felt like he was betraying Sansa. He hated being in between them, felt torn right down the middle. Robb could understand Jon’s hesitance but delaying the inevitable wouldn't make this situation go away.

 

Now here they sat, as he drove Jon around to pick up some last minute items and pretty much say goodbye.

 

“Am I correct in assuming you haven't told Sansa yet?” Robb asked, breaking the silence.

 

“I’m telling her tonight,” Jon answered in a distant tone, to which Robb scoffed.

 

“Well you don’t much of a choice, do you?” Robb remarked, “If not tonight, then what? I think she’ll get a bit suspicious when she goes to airport to pick you up in three weeks and you never arrive.”

 

“Robb…” Jon said with a sigh.

 

“Or would you take the truly cowardly way out and tell her after you get there?”

 

“Robb!” Jon said sharply before sighing once more, “I don't need this right now.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry if I can’t fully take into account what you need right now.” Robb stated, sarcasm evident in his voice. “Why are you even doing this again?”

 

“Because I have to.” Jon said gruffly, “Its whats for the best.”

 

“How is this for the best, Jon? Could you please explain it to me? Cause I don’t get it.”

 

“Its for Sansa.”

Robb shot him a look, turning his attention briefly off the road and onto Jon’s form in the passenger's seat.

 

“How is this for her?”

 

“She deserves better than me, everything that I can’t offer.” Jon said, keeping his eyes firmly ahead.

 

“What? Like you aren't good enough or something?” Robb asked, but Jon remained quiet. “Did she say something?”

 

Robb didn’t think Sansa would intentionally invalidate Jon, but sometimes she could be a bit inconsiderate with her words. He could  recall once, some time after their aunt Lyanna had passed away, during a group outing with their respective friends, Sansa had replied to someone inquiring that Jon wasn’t really a Stark. She was about fourteen at the time and hadn’t meant it to be hurtful. But she also hadn’t noticed when the smile dropped from Jon’s face or the dejected look he wore for the rest of the evening and the following few days.

 

This was well before Jon and she had began their relationship, and Jon had forgiven her long before that. Robb doubted if he had even brought it to her attention. One of the things he both loved and hated about the relationship between his sister and his best friend(brother really, but it was gross to think about it in that context) was how Jon would shield her feelings at almost all costs, even his own. In Jon’s eyes, she could do no wrong. It was a point of contention for a while, But Robb had come to the conclusion that his sister deserved the best and Jon was the best.

 

Somehow, everyone knew that but the man himself.

 

“She doesn't have to, Robb” Jon said with another sigh, “You know her though, how long before everything I have, everything I am stops being enough? I don’t ever want her to look at me with regret, and if I stay here it becomes inevitable. I have to do what’s best for her, what’s best for both of us.”

 

“Where is all this coming from? And you’ve never wanted to spend time with your father before, why not?” Robb persisted.

 

“Rhaegar, “Jon corrected, “and just drop it, Robb. Please.”

 

“Fine. Maybe it’d all be better if you two had never gotten together in the first place.” Robb had meant that partly as a joke until he heard Jon’s murmured reply of ‘Maybe’.

 

He couldn’t help but feel that Sansa had a lot more to do with this sudden choice of Jon’, purposely or not, and he was trying not to assign any blame but…

 

They remained silent for the rest of the trip to and from Torrhen’s Square.

 

******

 

**Catelyn**

 

She looked around the dinner table at her family. This would be the last time they’d all be together for...Seven knows how long. She was losing one of her children to the South, and Catelyn couldn’t help the disturbing feeling that settled in the pit of her stomach.

 

 _No._ She tried to tell herself. _You’re being dramatic._

 

She wasn’t losing Jon. They weren’t losing him. He was going south to get to know that part of his family and explore the options that came with them. After all, Rhaegar was an extremely influential man. Even in her youth, Cat had heard of his successes with expanding the Targaryen brand and name. Their family had strong pull from Dorne all the way up into the Riverlands, and Rhaegar himself was regarded as a business genius. In the short time after taking over for his father at age twenty-four, he had more than doubled their family’s wealth and the Targaryen’s were never ones to struggle. Why shouldn't Jon benefit from such lofty connections?

 

 _You know why_ , the voice in the back of her head whispered to her. And she did, in fact, know what was causing her reluctance in accepting Jon’s decision. Lyanna had done everything in her power to keep him out of the Targaryen’s grasp. Now he would be walking right into the dragon lair.

 

 _He is a dragon too,_ she insisted to herself. _He’ll be fine, but will we?_

 

Looking around the table she could already see the cracks starting to appear on the surface of her family. Robb was quiet, had receded into himself since arriving home with Jon and hadn’t spoken a word to anyone, though Theon kept trying to get a reaction, any reaction. Theon, always a bit on the obnoxious side was even more over the top, trying almost desperately to fill the silence. Arya was already in a foul mood, her responses had been growing more vulgar as the days had counted to to this fateful night where Jon would depart. She wasn’t eating but she still stabbed viciously at her plate. Bran, her little watcher, he was observing everyone very closely while shooting her some looks of concern.

 

She continued to watch as Sansa, sweet Sansa, almost oblivious to the growing tension around her, tried again and again to engage Jon in conversation.  Jon, however, could not seem to fully respond to anything she said. His shoulders were stiff and his neck was tense. He was looking everywhere but at Sansa.

 

He still hasn’t told her. That much was obvious. Ned and herself had urged him to come clean as soon as possible, told him it would be better that way. Certainly it was be better than blindsiding her the night that he would leave.

 

But here they all were and this night would only end in one way.

 

Her baby boy, Rickon, was simply chatting along to fill the empty air, aware that something was off with his family but too young to understand what it was.

 

Cat looked to Jon once more and found him staring back at her, uncertainty evident in his gaze. When they locked eyes, he quickly ducked his head and Sansa frowned in response. _She probably thinks he’s nervous about the trip_ , Cat thought to herself.

 

She continued to observe the couple when she felt something touch her hand on the table. When she looked up, she found her husband staring intently at her. He gave said smile with a slight nod. This would have to play itself out.

 

******

 

_Later that evening.._

 

Catelyn was now pacing the length of her darkened bedroom. She was racking her brain. Was there a way to fix all of this? To stop it? She couldn’t come up with anything but she could see the fallout on the horizon.

 

“Come to bed, love. There’s nothing we can do.” Ned said, trying to calm her but it fell flat.

 

“Nothing, Ned? Nothing? Don’t you see? The kids, this is..this is going to tear them apart!”

 

“The kids will be fine, Cat. He isn’t dying, he isn’t walking off the face of the earth. They will miss him, we will miss him. But he’s made his choice, and we will all be fine. He’ll come back when he’s ready, when he’s found what he’s looking for.” Ned reassured once more.

 

Cat considered her husband’s words. Ned was always evel-headed and steady. It was one of the traits she loved most about him. He wasn’t easily rattled. Whenever it felt like things were about to fall about, one look from Ned and Catelyn felt a calmness in her bones that would quell any doubt she may have had. She drew strength and peace from him.

 

Only this time, his words weren’t reassuring. No sense of calm washed over her. Catelyn knew her children, all of them. Inside and out. Every scar, freckle and mole. All their dreams, their fears..their very essence. She wouldn’t pretend that she knew what they all did every second of every day and everyone is allowed secrets of their very own. But she prided herself on being a good mother and actively nurtured the bond she had with each one. She loved them fiercely and made sure to learn them in their uniqueness.

 

This isn’t to say that Ned didn’t know or love their children, he was a fantastic father. He just didn’t have the advantage of spending as much time them as she had over the years. He worked long hours at the company and would often come home exhausted.  He made up for it with trips and vacations and he never missed a game, tournament or recital. But the day to day stuff had always been her. Her and Lyanna for a time back in the beginning. She missed those days as much as she missed her dear sister-in-law. Now it was just her...

 

This was how she knew he was mistaking. She had seen it all tonight at dinner. Jon, he would distance himself from them as soon as he made it south, thinking that was the only way to cope with the distance. Arya would let her sadness turn into anger and begin lashing out. Robb’s frustrations would grow and he’d need someone or something to focus it on. Bran would understand, she knew, he was wise beyond his years. And Ricky, her wild-child, he would be okay through all of this.

 

But Sansa… Sansa would be devastated. And it was start tonight.

 

“Could we have done something different?” She questioned in a soft voice.

 

“Different, how? Like forbade him from going?” He asked.

 

“No, of course not. He’s made his mind up and if it’s one thing they all have in common, its stubbornness.” she mused. “No. i mean with him and her. Could we have tried to keep them apart?”

 

“Darling. To a teenager, there is nothing more alluring than a forbidden love. If we had tried to keep them from being together, they would have found a way to do just that. But it would have been behind our backs, sneaking around. They would have wound themselves around each so tightly, not even the jaws of life would tear them from each other. You just said it yourself, they are stubborn. But they love each other and respect us. I think it's the best we could have hoped for.” Ned explained, rising from the bed to take her into his arms.

 

“But maybe we should have interfered. You know, guide them more. Maybe then this wouldn't be happening. Seven knows i have no idea where Jon got this idea from.  Maybe our ‘hands-off’ approach caused this.”

 

“They’re adults, love. I know it's hard to see them as such, time certainly did fly. But we can’t make their decisions for them. If we did, then how would they learn? This is Jon’s choice to make, and he did. And despite our pleas, he has chosen how to handle it. He will have to face the consequences.”

 

“But Ned, one of those consequences is our daughter’s heart.” she whispered while staring up at her husband. She then removed herself from his embrace and walked over to the window overlooking the back of their property. The white christmas lights were still up in the trees closest to the house, twinkling. The lights reflected off the fresh snow on the ground and the flakes dancing in the air, giving the area an ethereal look. A winter wonderland.

 

“Is this our fault, Ned? Do you think he feels like he doesn’t belong? Maybe I could have…” But she didn't finish that thought.

 

“I think he _thinks_ he needs this.” Ned murmured behind her, planting a kiss to her temple.

 

She peered down into the yard at the couple in question, they had just made their way out the back door. She could see Sansa’s red locks, so much like her own when she was that age. Cat sighed. The lights illuminated their form. Jon stared out into the distance as Sansa pulled him along, a soft smile on her face.

 

Jon stopped walking and pulled Sansa back to him. He heaved out a sigh. It was too late.

 

******

 

**Arya**

 

Anger was coursing through her veins and bubbled in the pit of her stomach. This could not be happening. Her brother, the only person that truly got her, that really understood who she was and didn’t want to change her...he was leaving. How could this really be happening? And her parents were just going to let him go??

 

Was she the only person that family actually matters to? It would seem that way.

 

And then there was Sansa. Sweet, innocent, perfect Sansa. Perfectly dumb Sansa. She clearly didn't know anything. All night long she’s been cuddling up to Jon like some love-sick puppy and she couldn’t see what was happening right in front of her perfectly perfect face. Sure, Jon hadn't told her yet. But anyone with eyes could see that something was wrong.

 

Jon looked like a man about to make his death march. Her parents were watching every one of them like hawks, especially her mother. Worry radiated from her form. And somehow Sansa couldn’t see it? Was she blind? That’s probably why Jon hadn’t told her in the first place! She makes things so damn difficult.

 

Arya had thought that maybe they were getting on. The last few years had been relatively peaceful between her sister and herself. She would even go as far to say that she liked Sansa from time to time. She could be funny in her own way, and Arya had started to somewhat enjoy her company occasionally. Growing up together had been full of frustration and displeasure. They had nothing in common and everyone simply took to Sansa. Arya was constantly in her shadow, but could never live up to the high standards Sansa set. And she never ever got in trouble, Sansa would never break the rules, a real goody-two-shoes. It was Jon who got them to really talk to each other, Jon who got them to see past their differences.

 

But if what Jon said was true and that he was in fact doing this for Sansa, then all bets were off. If he felt that he needed something from the south, from Rhaegar...it had to be Sansa’s doing, and Arya didn’t think she could forgive her sister for this.

 

Now, as she peers down at them from the window in the second floor den, next to her parents room, Arya couldn’t quite decipher exactly what she was feeling. Jon had already been by to say goodbye a little earlier, mentioning that he would visit and she could always come visit him too. But all she felt was uncertainty at his word…

 

Arya opened the window and let the voices drift up and in...

 

******

 

**Sansa**

 

A sense of anxiety filled Sansa’s body. But she did not want to give into any fear, she had to be strong. She had to be mature. Everything would be alright. Sure, she didn’t want him to go and would miss him terribly while he was gone. But they could video chat and text and before they knew it, he would be home. It was just for a little bit.

 

Looking over at Jon, she could tell he was feeling stressed over this whole thing as well. In the last few week he had been so very attached to her, always staying close by and wanting to spend as much time together as possible. She didn’t understand when other girls would complain about their boyfriends being clingy because she truly thought every moment spent with Jon was simply delightful.

 

But Sansa could tell that this trip was getting to him. For this last week, he had been even less talkative than usual. He was broodier too, she would come upon him sitting by himself and staring into empty space. But then he would spot her and smile so sweetly…

 

She didn’t want to make this any harder for him, the relationship between him and his father was always...strained, to say the least. And now he would be spending close to a month in Rhaegar’s home surrounded by unfamiliar faces. Plus the South was a funny place. Sansa had completed an internship in King’s Landing a few years back, and it was one of the worst experiences of her young life. Though the experience was insightful, as she was already planning to pursue a major of Literature in college, the people were pointedly unfriendly. They saw her as a means to crack their way into the northern economy through her family connections. And then there was the run-in she had had with Cersei Lannister and the walking codpiece she called a son.

 

Sansa shuddered at the memory. The South was no place for her family, least of all Jon. But Rhaegar was his father and he had a right to get to know the man. Even if that desire came on so very suddenly.

 

Stepping out into the snowy night, she took a deep breath. She loved the snow, as did all her siblings. As did most northern children. It brought up fond memories. But this night, the snow reminded her of Jon. The way the flakes swirled in the air and danced to the ground. How they sparkled in the twinkling lights, the quiet the fell across the night.

 

Sansa turned when he stopped moving, pulling her back to him, and gazed at him as he stared at the trees in the distance. Big  flakes landing in his curly locks, clinging to his long lashes and melting on his cheeks and lips. _Gosh he is a beauty_ , she thought to herself, smiling. His grasp on her hand was firm.

 

“Hey,” she said, catching his attention. “It's gonna be fine.”

 

Jon sighed and looked down. “Sansa…” he said with an exhale.

 

“It is!” She assured, “and if it isn't, then you can always come home a little early.”

 

“I need to tell you something.” His tone was one that she was unfamiliar with, he almost sounded...scared?

 

“What is it, Jon?” Sansa asked, concern laced in her voce. He wasn’t meeting her eyes.

 

“This trip.. Its um..” He sighed, “I’m going to be staying in King’s Landing…”

 

“What?” she questioned in a hushed tone. “What...what do you mean?”

 

“I’ve transferred to KLU...I’m going to be doing my last semester there.” He answered quietly.

 

Sansa stepped away from Jon and tried to pull her hands from his grasp but he held on and moved closer to her again.  His touch felt like something foreign on her hands and it unnerved her. Looking into his eyes, she saw tears had begun to gather there. Almost on instinct, she reached up and cupped her bare palm to his cheek. He turned and leaned into her touch. A single hot tear slid down his cheek, it felt almost scorching on her skin in the cool night air.

 

“Why would you do that? And why didn’t you tell me before now?” she asked but her voice sounded far away to her own ears. They stood there in the snow, staring into each others’ eyes. The world had stopped moving, only the snow continued to dance around them.

 

“I- I’m sorry… I’m so sorry!” he rushed out.

 

“So you’ll finish the semester and graduate there, and then what? What does this mean for us, Jon? What are we going to…?” her voice trailed off when his eyes fell back to the snow covered ground.

 

Oh… oh.

 

Suddenly, the veil was lifted from her eyes and she could see everything that she was blinded to before. Tonight, especially. The looks they would shoot her way without ever meeting her eyes. Robb’s distance and Arya’s barely muted irritability. Theon’s ‘overcompensation’. The way her parents watched her...and him. They all knew. He’d already told them.

 

She ripped her body away from him and put some distance between them.

 

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered.

 

“I have to do this, Sansa. I need to.” He answered.

 

“You _need_ to do this? And what about everything else? What about..?” _Us_.

 

“It's not about everything else! You have to understand-” he was started to plead, but she cut him off. Her own anger rose with her voice.

 

“I don’t have to understand anything! Especially when you make your decisions alone! Decisions that affect us! You’ve been lying to me for weeks, Jon! For months! You’re breaking up with me and you’re leaving. Somehow everyone seems to have known for some time. I don’t have to understand that.”

 

“Sansa..” he said reaching for her. She quickly moved out of his reach, putting her hands up and indicating that he should stay back. He recoiled at the action.

 

“Do not touch me.” she spoke low but firm. Her vision blurred with tears.

 

“Please..” He seemed to beg.

 

Sansa couldn’t look at him anymore. So instead she turned away from him and looked up to the dark sky, felt the snow melting against her face.

 

“Sansa, please. Please just listen. After KLU, I’m going to work for Rhaegar, I don't know for how long. I wish… I wish there was another- I wish it didn't have to be like this. But I have to go, and I need to do this. I don't want to leave you here-” he paused, as if to search for the right words, but Sansa didn’t give him the chance to find them.

 

“So go.” she said, sounding so much stronger than she felt.  “But don’t you ever come back. Do you understand me, Jon Snow? I never want to see your face again.” She stared out into the snow covered field, it really was a beautiful night. She heard him move closer to her being, the fresh snow crunching under his feet.

 

“I said GO!” she yelled,  unmoving.

 

“I love you.” he said, before she heard him begin to retreat. He’d be gone before the sun rose.

 

She isn't sure how long she stayed rooted in that spot, but the snow had covered her and there was a deep ache in her heart. One that she knew she would be feeling for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Next chapter gets back to our story, i have a few ideas but nothing concrete yet.  
> I think i did an okay job at editing spelling and grammatical mistakes this time but I'll still go over it throughout the day to make sure. 
> 
> Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Jonsa Fic, so please be gentle with me. I've had this idea floating around my head since September and its finally time! Yayy! I am not a writer, so any constructive criticism will be greatly appreciated, especially about the characters and how clearly I am or I am not expressing their thoughts and motives. There will be multiple flashbacks, but I will try not to lose the story. I apologize in advance for all grammatical and spelling mistakes, I'll be as careful as I can about those. Thank you for reading!!


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